Equilibrium
by Westward
Summary: A deadly fight was all it took to scare Desmond out of his wits. A small tussle was all it took to get Alex curious. After a series of events, these two opposing forces must work together for the same cause, but will they ever come to an agreement?
1. A Feast for a King

**Part One: Hazardous Beginnings**

Alex Mercer stood at the top of a skyscraper, which was just on the edge of Times Square. He let himself glare down at the incredible amount of people flowing through the streets. The intense lights from the numerous billboards and electronic signs would have blinded any average person, but for Alex, it didn't bother him. He wasn't even chilled by the wind at this altitude. His internal body temperature was designed to keep him warm, and he could even feel his insides move like snakes coiled up, causing heat from within.

Even so, Alex found himself pulling his leather jacket closer to him. He caught himself, though, and growled softly to no one in particular. The small action of warming himself was completely human, and he found the idea nauseating. He wasn't human. He never had been. He never would be. And now, he didn't want to be.

As if to express his distaste for humans, Alex spat down at a large crowd of Asian tourists, who were taking pictures of the busy city life. After a couple seconds, one in particular looked up to see if it was raining, grimaced at the dark sky for a second, and then went back to taking several photos a store's colorful window display. Alex let a deep sigh escape his body and sat down on the edge of the building.

No one could see Alex up on the edge of the building, it close to midnight and he was shrouded in darkness. Nighttime was his cover. Nighttime was his playtime, and the city was his playground. It had been like this for years. Ever since the Blacklight virus had been released on Manhattan by the original Alex Mercer, the island had been his to do whatever he wanted.

Of course, it came with a price…

He heard a car horn from far below, and continued to glare at the sea of people. Even without him tearing someone's throat out ferociously, it was a chaotic scene down there on the streets. He was amazed that life could move on after a viral apocalypse. But New Yorkers were strong, calloused people, and they had beaten the odds of survival. Alex wasn't surprised about this fact; natives to the large city seemed to be built to endure.

But what had really amazed him was how the world responded to the viral outbreak. The United States government had been quick to form a cover up story and had managed to fool almost the whole world. They even managed to cover up the Heller Incident, which even Alex had been gracious about. Now, the only people who believed in the outbreak was a small group of survivors, who had been found and were under heavy surveillance by the military, and skeptics that also didn't believe man hadn't landed on the moon.

The Blacklight outbreak was now a myth. Urban folklore that people scoffed at. In return, Alex laughed at them and their ignorance.

"What a bunch of idiots." He muttered to himself, the wind carrying his remark away.

The swells of people were acting like cattle now as they formed a huge wave on the empty streets below. They were moving more like a herd of putrid animals, waiting to be slaughtered. And Alex had the right to be called their slaughterer.

As if to agree with him, his insides quivered and grumbled. Alex frowned; the scowl lines on his forehead deepening even further. He had already consumed a couple of homeless people before perching up on this building's roof for the night. But apparently, that hadn't been enough for his body. Alex stood up, gave one last scowl to the mob down below, and then slowly walked to the other side of the building.

Alex sped up his pace quickly until he figured he had enough momentum to carry him through the gap between buildings. Alex pushed forward and jumped. His powerful legs were able to carry him to the next rooftop quite easily. He landed in a roll and took off again, changing direction to head down south towards the tip of Manhattan. Even in the dark, Alex could tell he was travelling in the right direction.

Alex hadn't hunted in that area in a while, and he needed to distribute his territory or else the New York police department would catch on to him fast. If people started to notice that the neighborhood friendly hobos had all disappeared over the course of a couple days, he would risk being discovered. No, it was better to have a diverse meal.

He headed down towards SoHo, knowing that it had been a couple months since visiting that area. Plus, it was a suburban-like part of the city, and there would be less potential witnesses for him to deal with in case thing got out of hand. Which in most cases, it did.

The sharp wind on his face felt good, and he could feel his powerful body ready to snap out of control. He hadn't been this active in a long while, and all the energy that had been stored in him had to be released. He was like a rabid dog; if you caged him up for too long, he would kill his owner in a mad rage. Alex didn't want that to happen, and soon found himself jumping from building to building at amazing speeds.

It didn't take him long to reach the edges of the small, artistic neighborhood. To his irritation, the streets were buzzing with life. Of all the odds, a late night festival had immersed the whole place. Street vendors and tourists made this small part of the city just as crowded as Times Square. There were even some street performers that created festive music, which cheered up the whole tone of the small city fair.

However, the deadly virus didn't find the whole display cheerful. He let out an aggravated growl and kicked one of the water tanks on the roof. The force of his kick was too much, and water drenched him as the container buckled. And before Alex knew it, the waster was finding its way down into the alleyway.

"Shit!" Alex swore. Now, Alex was hungry, miserable, _and _wet. Alex didn't like water; he never had for as long as he could remember. It seemed to be wired into the virus. The fluid always left his skin tingly, as if it was dissolving slowly at an atomic level. Alex quickly shifted to shake all the water off of him. "This is just not my day."

The virus continued to sulk as he walked over towards the edge, scoping out the area for any potential targets through the mess. He took his sweet old time and turned on his thermal vision automatically. He could feel his iris change and the world changed to a contrasting blue and orange. The world surrounded him in orange specks and Alex had trouble picking out a certain target.

"Let's see." Alex muttered softly. He reached up and scratched his black hair under his hoodie. His head wasn't bothering him; it was just a habit that he had picked up in the past couple months. Alex did it all the time now subconsciously; it did help him blend in with the humans after all. "There's one."

A man in a grey suit stood out of place against all the others. He was rather tall, but lean and scrawny. Short blond hair covered his head, slightly wind tossed from the course of the day. He had large glasses, and Alex guessed that he must have been completely blind without them. He held a black leather briefcase in one hand, and his other hand held a Smartphone next to his ear.

"_Just a stockbroker, plenty of those to go around."_ Alex thought, guessing the man's occupation and then justifying the soon to be crime he would commit. He thought of a disguise he should use. It took sometime before settling on a female college student he consumed awhile ago. _"That'll work."_

Soon, Alex felt his skin being slowly ripped apart and then reform. His insides aligned itself with his new size, which was considerably shorter than his six foot tall default. Alex's clothes also changed until he was completely unrecognizable. Now, Alex was a short brunette in a pink summer dress with flowery flip flops. Not one of Alex's favorite disguises, but one that had always worked when needed.

The virus in disguise sucked in a deep breath and then jumped down in a dark alley, careful not to create any interest in his movements. He landed with a thud, only leaving a small indentation on the pavement. Alex inspected the minute damage, and then shrugged, more worried about the rumbling deep in his body than that.

The virus headed towards the crowded area, slightly detesting the crowds of people. He searched the area, wondering if his selected target had already left. It took a couple seconds for Alex to rake through the crowds and find the suited man by a small, fenced in tree. He was still talking on his smart phone, but had stopped walking. It looked like the man was getting frustrated with the person on the other side of the line. Alex smirked at the thought.

Alex didn't plan exactly how to lure the man away from the busy street. He only thought of a weak story to convince the suit. It took the virus only a couple seconds to reach the suited man, and then he tried to give him a convincing innocent look. It must not have worked, because the man gave Alex a small sneer before ignoring him and continuing his conversation.

"Look, I don't care where you deposit the money or how you deposit it. I just need the damn accounts full before we reach an agreement Wednesday." The banker stated, aggravated. He stopped and listened for a couple seconds, anger building up as time passed. "No, you moron! That's not how it works. I think that even somebody as stupid as you are would comprehend that at this point of time. But you've just proved me wrong."

"Uh, sir?" Alex started, his voice high and squeaky in this disguises. "I need help. I—"

"Shut it tramp, before I call the cops!" The grey suited man snapped and put his phone on his chest to cover his remark. Alex was taken aback by the man abrasiveness, and tried not to snap back by snapping the man's neck. Alex even let out a small growl, but the business man didn't notice. He was back on his phone. "Look, just set the appointment up after the transfer and then get back in touch with me as soon as possible."

Alex was starting to get impatient. He hadn't known that this man would have been such an ass when he picked him. The virus was about to pick a new, easier target when the man finally shoved the electronic rectangle back in his pocket. The suit let out an irritated sigh between gritted teeth before turning to face the disguised virus.

"Oh, you're still here? Get the hell away, slut!" The man brushed Alex away, hand clenching his briefcase tightly. He turned to look at Alex, who furiously watched him walk around the corner. "Go make yourself useful and stay in the kitchen where you belong."

That did it; Alex had to take this man out just because he was an asshole. It cheered him up when he thought that he would actually being doing the good thing for once in his life by consuming him in cold blood. Alex tightened his hands into small, lethal fists and ran after the suited man.

"Sir, I just need some help! I lost my dog in an alleyway and I'm not used to this area of Manhattan. I just need someone with me for my nerves." Alex yelled at the man, keeping up with him as all sorts of people passed the two of them on the busy street. "It'll only take a couple seconds, really."

The suited man shook his head and sped up his pace, but Alex managed to keep up. He was determined to have him, and no one else tonight. Alex reached to grab the man's arm, and had succeeded in stopping the business man in his tracks.

"Let go of me." The man ordered, a scowl forming quickly. Alex did not back down, and the man's confidence faltered slightly. After a couple seconds of a shared glare, the man let out a small sigh. "Fine, show me where your damn dog ran off."

Alex nodded and gave him a stern thank you. Alex led the man back around the corner, feeling the reluctance of the man as he tugged him forward. Despite the sass that he had gotten from the man, this was a fairly easy catch, and he would be done with him in a mere couple seconds. His body rumbled, and the virus sped up, pulling the man to his death even faster.

"It's just over here, I'm sure my Spot couldn't have gotten very far away." Alex squeaked through his voice. "Thank you so much, mister . . ."

"Mr. Dick Charleston." The man huffed as he was tugged into the dark alleyway, which was surprisingly very wet for some odd reason. He soon found the two of them far from the lively street and covered in ominous shadows. "Let's find this animal of yours so I can get back to business."

"Oh, it won't take that long, I promise." Alex mumbled, too quiet for the man to hear.

Alex stopped and looked around, trying to find a dog that didn't exist. He whistled softly, and even clapped his hands. The virus checked around some trashcans and a chain link fence, but wasn't very serious about it. It probably wasn't very convincing for Charleston, but he remained next to Alex's side. But after a couple minutes, the man grew impatient and looked at his watch as if to tell the disguised virus to hurry up.

"Come on, I'm on a tight schedule, hurry up." The business man ordered.

Alex chuckled menacingly, finally breaking character. He came over towards Charleston, and cherished the feeling when the man subconsciously took a half step back towards the lively street. Alex cracked his knuckles and faced the man. The man, who was obviously confused, had no idea what was going on.

"Oh, it won't take that long. Trust me." Alex stated, eyes furious.

Without warning Alex lunged out at Charleston, fists ready. With one swift punch in the gut, the man fell to the ground. There were the sounds of a couple ribs breaking, and Alex smirked at the wonderful sound. He had the air knocked out of him, and would have trouble standing up. Alex took this as the perfect opportunity to beat the man until he was almost dead. Alex kicked the man on the ground, sending him backwards into a brick building. Somehow, Charleston was still conscious, and Alex decided it was time to finish the job.

Alex slowly walked towards the man, making the man wait in pain. He watched as Charleston made a futile attempt to call for help on his smart phone. In response, Alex bent down, smiled menacingly, and snatched the phone out of Charleston's hand. Charleston watched, horrified, as Alex crumpled the phone as if it was paper.

"Now, I don't think that's necessary." Alex spoke, his voice changing as he shape shifted from the college student back to his original look. He was now more intimidating than before as he stared at the business man with ice blue eyes. He tossed the destroyed phone away, into one of the large puddles of water. There was a small, electronic spark, and the phone completely died. "We don't want to make things too complicated, do we?"

Charleston's faces could not compose any feelings other than terror or panic. A low but audible rumble in Alex's body told him that he hungered for biomass. Alex didn't hesitate to pick the man up with one hand, holding him a couple feet about ground. The power behind him was incredible, and he knew he had the power to end the man's life within milliseconds, but he knew that that would be too easy on him.

"Please, I can . . . I can give you anything you want. Money, power, you name it." Charleston squeaked out of his crushed throat, barely able to breathe. Blood started to drizzle out of his mouth, and the smell of it was getting to Alex. "Just spare me."

Alex paused for a second, letting Charleston think that he was thinking about it. But before the man's hope could rise, Alex let a pair of tentacles protrude from his sides. In a matter of seconds, the man had been consumed, leaving only a small pool of blood where Alex stood. Alex let his tentacles reduce to nothing as he ran back on top of the roof.

The flood of memories came quickly, and Alex was quick to repress them. He already had enough memories to deal with before he consumed this guy.

Now, his body was happy. He had enough extra biomass to last for a couple weeks. He could disappear again, be a part of the night like the monster he was, where he could do less damage to the few he loved and trusted. He could be alone again. Solitude was his one friend now, but he wasn't pleased about that. His body may have been happy, but he wasn't.

Alex went to the side of the roof and perched on the ledge. He kept himself there for almost half an hour, watching the festival finally start to die down after a long day. There were still a lot of people, but it had definitely died down. Now, Alex could focus on each individual person and watch them intently, which was what he did with his free time. It was his personalized version of television.

One person caught his interest in particular, and Alex straightened himself out to get a better look of the man. He sat in an empty chair, a part of a small group of people, but yet, not really with them. He wore a white hoodie and faced away from the building that Alex was sitting on. He ate something out of a small bag, and took an occasional sip from a can of soda. He seemed to be enjoying the dying festival, but had sense of paranoia around him.

Suddenly, the man in the white hoodie jumped up, and was jogging through the street towards a less crowded one. He managed to dodge every person in his way, and moved as light as the wind behind his back. But the hooded man stood confident and strong, too. And when he reached a deserted street, he clung to the shadows.

Alex was . . . interested, he had to admit it.

Once again, Alex jumped down off of the roof, determined to follow the man out of his own curiosity.

* * *

Alex-Activision

Dude in the White Hoodie-(Stargate) Ubisoft *sparkle*


	2. Terataphobia

_One hour earlier . . ._

A man in a white hoodie walked with the crowd of young college students as they made their way out of the underground subway system. He kept close to them, but still left enough room not to tip them off that he was following them. He kept his hood up to cover the top of his face. He didn't want to bring any attention to himself. No, it was best if he kept a low profile as long as he was in the public eye.

A couple minutes passed and the hooded man could faintly hear music from a couple blocks away.

He broke apart from the young group of people and walked across an empty street. He had no idea where he was going, he just wanted to be free. It's been a while since the hooded man could enjoy his freedom without being monitored by his friends and co-workers. He was grateful for their company, but a person could only be cooped up for so long before feeling trapped.

That's why he took the liberty of climbing out a window as soon as he was sure the others were asleep. He knew they probably noticed his absence by now and were probably on high alert. It wouldn't be long before he got a call on his ten dollar disposable phone. And then his freedom would be cut short.

The man frowned slightly, the faint scar on the side of his mouth slightly bending outwards. This would likely be his last taste of freedom for a very, very long time.

He sped up and followed the sound of the music. There must have been a street fair set up for the day. He hadn't been to one in ages, and he could feel himself salivating at the thought of fried Oreos. Man, there was no other delicacy as scrumptious as a New York street fried Oreo.

It didn't take long for the hooded man to reach the fair. He slowly weaved through the crowd of people, hoping to find an open booth that served fried Oreos. Deep in the heart of the street fair, the man heard the wonderful sound of something being submerged in grease. He instantly turned to face the sound and saw an old man take out a new batch of fried Oreos. The hooded man was quick to respond and made a B-line to the booth. He was, unfortunately, the last in line though.

He took in a deep breath and rolled his eyes. Of course, it was just his luck that he'd have to wait for heaven on earth.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. The hooded man swore under his breath and then gritted his teeth. He quickly grabbed his small phone and answered the call.

"Yeah?" The man asked, nervous about who was on the other side of the line.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" A man screeched into the hooded man's ear, forcing him to pull the phone away. Even from a foot away, the man's yelling was audible, and a couple passerbies stared at him. He cringed when he realized who was reprimanding him. "Do you know how much of a risk you are taking?"

The man sucked in a sharp breath and rubbed his forehead roughly. His hood fell down and he quickly placed it over his head again. An all too familiar headache was starting to form. "Look, Shaun, I don't see what's so wrong about taking a break from the Animus—"

"What's wrong with that? What's wrong with that, Desmond?" Shaun said, his British accent throwing his rage a bit off. "You can get kidnapped again! And this time Lucy won't be there to break you out. You need to get back to the lab right now before something bad happens."

"Enough, Shaun. Give me the god damn phone." Desmond faintly heard a female's voice on the other side of the line. Desmond could tell that it was Lucy who was wrestling the Brit for the cell phone. The two's struggle was audible until Shaun made a sound of disbelief. Lucy must have hit the Brit or something. They argued for a couple seconds longer, leaving Desmond waiting. "Just get a towel over it and it'll stop bleeding in no time. Hey Desmond, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Lucy." Desmond paused, trying to think of something to say. "Look, I'm sorry I left without telling you. I just . . . I just need some time to clear my head."

It was silent on the other end. Desmond stepped forward as the line shortened. He waited patiently for Lucy to answer. Desmond could hear her breathe on the other side and he could tell that she had been frightened by his disappearance. He suddenly felt bad for doing that to her, but he had to do what he did.

"I understand, Desmond." Lucy finally whispered. She sounded hurt, but unsurprised. Desmond winced at her tone of voice. "But you should have told us. I could have accompanied you to make sure nothing went wrong."

"Yeah, that's probably the smart thing to do. But I wasn't thinking about what's smart. I just went on my instincts." Desmond stated, almost snappy at his friend. He stepped forward with the line so he wouldn't anger the people behind him. "I'll be able to take care of myself for a couple hours. I'm not a damn kid anymore."

"Desmond?" Lucy paused. He could hear her take a deep breath. She sounded tired. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I'll be fine." Desmond tried to add another word, but Lucy ended the phone call. The line went silent, and Desmond silently swore to himself. What was wrong with him? He'd been an ass to his friends in the past few days as the mental stress continued to pile up on him. The Bleeding Effect had been worsening in the past couple weeks, and Desmond had grown short tempered and overbearing. "Damn it."

The next couple minutes had passed in angered silence.

He was finally at the booth, and he quickly shoved the phone in his white hoodie's pocket. He looked at the prices, absentminded, and took out a ten dollar bill. He wet his lips as his nose was filled with the delicious aroma of fried Oreos. The man in charge of the booth looked at him expectantly.

"Can I have a bag of fried Oreos and a can of Dr. Pepper?" Desmond asked quickly.

"Sure, that'll be six bucks." The man stated as he handed Desmond a bag of fried Oreos. He leaned down behind the temporary counter and pulled out a wet can of soda. "Enjoy."

"That's seems a bit pricy, don't you think?" Desmond grimaced.

"Yeah, well, _some _of us actually have to make a living." The man muttered under his breath as Desmond left with the four dollars in change.

Desmond shrugged and headed off away from the booth. He saw an area with chairs and tables that belonged to a closed pizzeria. There were a couple of others hanging around there, already enjoying their food and other purchases. A few seemed buzzed, and Desmond thought that if he played his cards right, he could blend into their group.

After shifting into an open chair, Desmond pretended to be with the group of people. They barely noticed him, and he was free to snack on his treats. The assassin ignored their conversation, not caring much for the global economy and politics.

Suddenly, Desmond felt off. Something dangerous was in the area, and it was close. He had learned enough from his ancestors Ezio and Altair to know when something bad was about to happen. Desmond instantly checked to see if his hidden blade was on him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he felt the ancient weapon.

But still, chills were running down his spine and he had the urge to run like hell.

Desmond discreetly turned around, acting as if he had heard someone calling him by name. He searched through the dying crowd, looking for thugs from Abstergo Industries. The last thing he needed was someone from Abstergo trying to steal more information from him. No one stood out, but that didn't mean that they weren't there, disguised.

Desmond did notice, though, that there were a few people enjoying themselves.

There was one man in his pajamas who looked completely miserable and was walking an old dog, carrying a paper bag in his hand. A couple others that didn't seem to be quite happy were a business man and a young woman in a pink dress, arguing and glaring at each other. They were probably in a relationship and were hitting a rough patch. And the only other person who wasn't happy seemed to be a hobo who was trying to mooch food off of tourists, but not getting much luck.

Other than that, everything seemed normal. Desmond tried to shake his nerves off and managed to get his act together. He turned back around and continued to munch on his fried Oreos. Time passed, and Desmond realized that he had run out of his fried treats. He checked the time on his phone and moaned. It was past midnight and he was sure his friends were probably pulling their hair out by now.

Desmond jumped up, leaving his unfinished can of Dr. Pepper behind, and headed back towards the subway. By now, the subway would probably be deserted, and he could enjoy the last couple minutes of his freedom in silence. He jogged down the empty street, feeling like he had been the sole survivor of an apocalypse. Even the lights seemed to dim ominously. He was about to reach for his phone when his instincts were kicked in.

Someone was following him, and was being very careful about it.

Desmond frowned and instantly went into assassin mode. Ezio had gone through this situation multiple times, and Desmond was sure that he could follow in his ancestor's footsteps. He headed towards the shadows, hoping to lose his pursuer in the darkness. The assassin turned to walk down an alleyway, and then shrank to hide in the shadows between two dumpsters. He was completely invisible.

Even so, Desmond's heart was beating rapidly, and he could hear each beat distinctively in his ears.

Desmond waited in complete silence, listening. He heard faint footsteps reach the opening of the alleyway, and his heart stopped. His pursuer had taken a couple steps forward and paused. His pursuer was breathing heavily and Desmond couldn't tell if it was a man or a wild animal following him. A couple seconds passed and the pursuer decided that his time was wasted and retreated back to the empty street.

For the past couple months, Desmond spent every second trying to survive under the radar, had been forced to relive his ancestor's memories at the threat of losing his life, escaped from a multimillionaire company hell bent to control the world, and experience his mind being replaced by another. And he had never been as terrified as he had been seconds ago. He still had Goosebumps all over his arms.

Desmond decided to remain in the shadows for a couple minutes longer before sprinting for the subway. After a couple minutes, he heard a car drive by the way he entered and determined that this was his chance of escape. The sound of the tires would mask his footsteps in case the pursuer was still waiting for him. Desmond sprinted out of the alleyway and back into the safety of the lit streets.

It was a couple blocks until the nearest subway station, and Desmond was sure he could make it in a minute flat if he really tried. The assassin focused on trying to put one foot forward faster than the other, finally realizing the danger he had just put himself in.

"_A fucking alleyway? Yeah, great idea Desmond, you're such an idiot." _He thought, mentally insulting himself. _"People die from stab wounds in alleyways, they don't hide in them."_

He was almost to the subway station and he could just make out the entrance around the corner. He started to smirk, that is, until he heard footsteps following him again. Obviously he hadn't lost his pursuer and would have to result in more dangerous measures. Desmond swore out loud and went through different scenarios in his head.

Desmond growled and quickly changed his direction towards yet another alleyway. His chances of success were limited, but he didn't have that much of a choice. As soon as he was in the dark, again, Desmond jumped onto a fire escape for higher ground. He edged towards the side of the building for cover and climbed onto the railing. He was ready to pounce his target like master assassins had centuries ago.

It wasn't long until his pursuer turned into the alley. He looked a bit confused by the Desmond's disappearance, but wasn't daunted. He looked around the alley, walking closer to where Desmond was perched, not even noticing the man up in the shadows. Desmond remained silent, waiting for the man to be exactly under him.

With a couple more steps, Desmond readied his hidden blade and flicked it out. The sound of the blade caught the pursuer's attention, and he looked straight up at Desmond. The assassin could only get a quick glance at his face before pouncing him, blade ready.

"Hiah!" Desmond yelled primitively as he lunged at the man.

The man was prepared for him and he managed not only to catch Desmond by the waist but throw him too. It was as if Desmond was made out of something lighter than air as the man threw him over to the other side of the alley. Desmond instinctively rolled as he hit the ground and stood back up in a defensive position in a matter of seconds. However, the man was already charging at him, faster than Desmond had ever seen someone run.

The man went to punch Desmond, and he managed to dodge his fist at the last second. He could practically feel the force in the punch through the air. Desmond was quick to act and tried to disarm the man, hitting him in a couple pressure points Lucy had shown him. It didn't have any effect on the man, and he just twisted around to strike the assassin. Desmond took a step back and watched as the man punched the ground.

He heard the asphalt crack under the guy's fist. He even felt the shockwave travel through his own body. He stared at the man, terrified. That could have been his head, or what would've been left of it. The man scowled and looked up at Desmond, his ice blue eyes staring into his soul. He slowly raised his fist and shook the rubble off. Where his fist had hit the ground was an indentation a good couple inches deep.

"What the fuck is this guy!" Desmond sharply whispered to himself, losing his concentration.

It was all Desmond managed to say before the man lunged at him, his fists ready. Desmond was still flabbergasted and couldn't act quickly enough. The man had managed to punch him in the gut, and Desmond was sure he heard a couple ribs snap. Desmond gasped in pain and had to lean on the alley's side for support. The assassin never felt so much pain in his lifetime, and all he could think about was how long until the pain would force him to black out.

"You're lucky I'm going easy on you." The man uttered, his voice deep and menacing. "You should be dead by now."

Desmond winced at the sound of his attacker's voice. It was like a lion's growl, only more ferocious. There was just something . . . inhuman about it, and it horrified him. With that voice, Desmond's life flashed before his eyes.

The man walked forward until he faced Desmond. Even in the bad lighting, Desmond could get a good look at his attacker's face. He wore a black leather jacket and a hood, but he could see that the man had dark, curly hair protruding under the hood's edges. His face seemed to be contorted to a permanent scowl, and he had a very strong jaw line. He glared at Desmond, and the assassin had trouble keeping his eyes away from the man.

Without thinking, Desmond reached forward and stuck his hidden blade into the man's heart. The man made a small gasp out of surprise. After a couple long seconds, he looked down to see where exactly the blade stabbed him. Desmond also glanced down, and was shocked to see that there wasn't any blood gushing from the wound.

The man grumbled and grabbed Desmond's forearm. He ignored Desmond's resistance and slowly pulled the blade out of him. Once the blade was out of him, he gripped Desmond's arm until the young man let out a cry of pain.

"And now, I guess I should be dead." The man stated monotonously. He dropped Desmond's forearm and raised his own hand. "But you aren't the only one with a weapon on you."

Desmond wheezed as he tried to steady his breathing. He didn't understand what the man meant. And shouldn't his dead body be on the ground by now? Desmond had performed the perfect assassination, and yet the man was still in better shape than him. The only thing that he could comprehend was the pain in his side as it worsened.

But he forgot all about his pain in an instant. The man, his attacker, gave him a little smirk. It took Desmond a second to realize why the man was smirking.

His entire hand was transforming until it was just one huge, black blade. Small, vein like tentacles swarmed around it, and then melted around the blade. The blade itself was moving, living as a part of the man that it belonged to. The man raised the blade to Desmond's neck and he could feel heat that radiated off of it.

"_That's it,"_ Desmond thought, _"I'm insane. The Bleeding Effect finally got to me."_

Desmond was sure he was going to die by the hands of the monster. It was in that instant that Desmond acted on impulse. Heck, if he was going to die, why not go down fighting. Desmond hastily grabbed the metallic top of a nearby garbage can and slammed it into the monster's head as hard as he could. His action was enough to distract the monster and it pulled the blade away from his neck.

Desmond didn't hesitate to run. With the rest of his dwindling strength, the assassin sprinted out of the alley and towards the subway station. He couldn't ignore the pain in his side and shouted as it almost overtook him. Still, he continued, knowing that every second counted. Desmond didn't even check to see if he was being followed.

Fortunately for him, the monster was still in the alleyway, watching his prey escape. His prey had impressed him enough for him to let him live, this one time. After a couple seconds, he let his arm return to normal and climbed the nearest building.

* * *

Almost two hours had passed since Desmond's encounter with the monster. He had spent those hours trying to confuse anyone who was still following him. He managed to travel all the way from the southern tip of Manhattan to Queens. And then he went from Queens to the northern edge of the Bronx. Finally, Desmond was able to transfer to a train that would take him back to the assassin's New York hideout in Manhattan.

By the time that he made it back to the hideout, the sky was growing brighter. Desmond paused and stood in front of the abandoned building that he and his friends were stationed at. He groaned but stopped when the pain was too great in his side. What had made him groan wasn't caused by the pain, but from seeing that all of the lights on their floor were turned on. The other assassins were on high alert.

Desmond took his time as he opened the gate into the building. He closed it behind him and slowly trudged up the stairs up to the third floor. He didn't even reach the last step before the door was forced open and Shaun jumped out, screaming at the top of his lungs. Even with Shaun's screeching, Desmond felt safer than he had been all night.

"Do you have any sort of brain in that bloody head of yours?" Shaun shouted; his face was livid. He had to pause to push his glasses back up his nose, but didn't change his pace. "Do you know how worried we were? Did you spend your whole bloody night in the subway? Our phones don't get any service down there!"

"Please, Shaun." Desmond whispered as he trudged forward towards the door, leaning to one side. "Get out of my way."

"You must be daft. I don't think I should let you back in after the scare you gave us." Shaun stated, only half meaning it.

Desmond ignored the Brit and shoved him aside. Inside their hideout, Rebecca and Lucy were in their pajamas and were sitting at the small kitchen table, most likely on their fifth cup of coffee after waking up. They must have been up all night, worrying about what had happened to him. When they noticed Desmond, relief washed through their faces. But Lucy's reverted back to worry when she realized that Desmond was badly injured.

Lucy quickly sat up and pulled out her chair for Desmond. He took it and felt his tired body ready to retire for the rest of the day. His arm still clung to his broken side. He felt himself leaning to one side, and Lucy caught him before he fell over. Desmond was losing it, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on. Now, Rebecca and Shaun realized that Desmond was in bad shape.

"Desmond." Lucy called for the assassin, hoping to get his attention. It took him a while to focus on the blond, and he saw the hurt in her eyes. "Desmond. What happened?"

The room was silent, except for Desmond's heavy breaths. Everyone waited for an answer. Desmond's head fell limp from exhaustion and he couldn't keep his eyes open. He had to seriously think to get the correct answer. He didn't have one.

"I'm sorry." Desmond finally muttered, crying slightly before passing out from the pain.

* * *

Terataphobia: The fear of monsters, deformed humans, or bearing deformed infants. In this case, it's the first definition.


	3. Visiting Hours

Desmond woke up four hours later after a dreamless sleep; a few beams of sun hitting him smack dab in the middle of the face. He was alone in his small, cramped room, lying on top of his unmade cot. He could hear soft footsteps just on the other side of the building's thin wall. Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy were still awake, and were whispering softly as if not to disturb him. They sounded anxious. Desmond wasn't surprised, knowing he must have scared them shitless when he passed out.

Desmond noticed that he had an old quilt wrapped around him. It was most likely one of Lucy's. He felt like he was baking in an oven; he was sweating profusely and had to get out of the quilt as soon as possible. The assassin sat up and tore the patchwork quilt off and to his side. It was then that he noticed that someone had undressed him and had bound his damaged side with gauze. He wasn't bleeding, but Desmond knew that the gauze was there to hold his broken ribs in place.

He wondered if the pain was causing him to sweat so much. It certainly wasn't the quilt that had; after he threw the quilt off, he seemed to sweat even more. Desmond stood up and stiffly walked towards a window, opened it, and then sat back down on his bed. Even with the cool breeze, there wasn't much of a change. Desmond wiped the sweat off of his forehead, but stopped abruptly when he saw bruises covering his entire forearm.

It was like a wave had hit him. All the memories of last night swept through him, and then he realized why he was sweating so much.

He was still terrified about the man that had attacked him last night. Even when he was sleeping, the man plagued him in his dreams. Throughout the night, Desmond dreamt that he had been slowly butchered by the monster with his blade-hand. Just the thought of it sent the assassin shuddering with chills, only to be followed by a cold sweat.

Desmond instantly looked for any signs of impending danger, and he found himself backing away from the open window. Suddenly, a car's alarm ran off from the street below and Desmond flinched, falling off of the bed and onto the building's ancient wooden floor. As soon as he hit the floor, the whole room rattled, startling the other assassins in the room next door. Desmond didn't notice their reaction because his heart was pounding his eardrums out.

There was a soft knock on his door. Desmond glanced at the door, terror masking his face, and saw Lucy peeking in. Her face was tired, and she frowned when she saw that Desmond wasn't in a better shape than last night. She still had no idea what had happened to him, and he knew that she was expecting the worst.

Her worst was so much better than the truth.

"Desmond? Can you come join us at the table now that you're awake? We need to ask you a few questions." Lucy whispered. Desmond instantly nodded and stood up. Lucy watched as he struggled to walk forward, sucking in a deep breath with each movement, and bit her lip to stay silent. But after a few seconds, it was too much. "Please, sit back down. We'll come in."

Desmond shrugged and limped back to the side of his bed. Lucy disappeared for a couple seconds, but returned with both Shaun and Rebecca. The other assassins remained standing and watched Desmond struggle back to a comfortable position. They waited until he was ready to begin. Desmond nodded when he was ready.

"Okay. Desmond, what the_ hell_ happened to you?" Lucy asked before Shaun could open his mouth. "We tried to get a hold of you all last night. And then you just showed up, almost dead from exhaustion and your left side practically crushed."

Desmond chewed on his bottom lip. He was ready to tell them, but he wasn't sure if they were ready to believe him. The other three assassins waited impatiently for him to spill the beans. Finally, Shaun lost his patience and coughed to get Desmond's attention. Desmond glowered at the Brit before sucking in a deep breath.

"I was attacked." Desmond muttered hesitantly. He continued before Lucy could ask by whom. "By some creepy guy. At least, I thought that it was a guy, until—"

"Until what?" Rebecca interrupted, confused and intrigued at the same time.

"Until his arm turned into a fucking knife!" Desmond snapped, his voice catching everyone off guard. His outburst was met with an awkward silence. He saw that his friends were giving him weird looks as if to question his sanity. Desmond knew he sounded crazy, and if he was them, he wouldn't believe what he was saying either. "I'm not making this up. His entire arm transformed into a big knife and he threatened to carve my innards out with it."

The room was still after Desmond's outbreak. Shaun thought that his colleague finally went insane, like Subject 16, and would have to be turned into a mental institute for his own good. Rebecca's thoughts perfectly mirrored Shaun's. Lucy didn't know what to think.

"Des, I don't think . . ." Rebecca tried to find the right words, but came up with nothing. She shared an uneasy glance with Shaun before shifting her weight distribution to her other foot, clearly showing that she was nervous. "I mean, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fucking sure that a monster tried killed me."

A second passed, and then Shaun sighed heavily. He took a pen and his small notepad out of his pocket and looked at it hesitantly. He walked towards Desmond and gave him the pen and notepad. Desmond observed the items in his hands before making a face of confusion. Shaun stared at him, expectantly.

"Well? Draw the damn man." Shaun ordered. "If you want me to believe you, which I probably won't anyways, I need to see him."

After a long pause, Desmond grumbled and took the cap off of the pen. Desmond wasn't very artistic, and any rendition done by him would give Shaun yet another reason for him to laugh in his face. Still, Desmond didn't have much of a choice unless he wanted to be dubbed mentally insane by his friends. Quickly, Desmond sketched the man on a small, clean sheet of notepad.

"He wore a leather jacket that had a couple white stripes on the sleeves, and he had a brown hoodie under it. It looked like he wore another shirt under that, but I'm not that sure." Desmond stated as he tried to draw the torso of the man. He gave up on the jacket and then worked on the arm that had transformed into a knife "And he had the coldest eyes ever…"

Finally, after a couple minutes of useless sketching, Desmond finished with his poorly drawn outline of the monster. He was actually impressed on how it turned out despite not attempting to draw his face or legs after halfway through it. He handed over to Rebecca, who studied it quickly with Shaun peering over her shoulders. Her eyes widened after a couple seconds as something had caught her attention. The gears in her head were already turning.

"Hang on a sec. I've seen this guy before." Rebecca muttered as she pushed some of her black hair behind her ears. She showed Lucy and Desmond the picture before shoving it into her pocket. "It's somewhere on the internet. It'll take me a while to find it, but I'll call you as soon as I do."

"Call?" Desmond asked, confused.

Lucy nodded. "Desmond, you've almost been killed. We need to get you checked out by a doctor to make sure that you aren't bleeding eternally. Now that you're up, Shaun and I are escorting you to the nearest hospital."

"Um, isn't that kind of a dumb thing to do?" Desmond pointed out. He rubbed his sides as he spoke unconsciously, but the other assassins noticed it. "Wouldn't we be walking right into a trap? I'm sure Abstergo controls every hospital in the area. And wouldn't giving ourselves to the Templars be a bad idea?"

"Wouldn't almost dying at the hands of a made up monster be a bad idea?" Shaun retorted; he was still clearly furious at Desmond.

Desmond stared at Lucy, then Shaun, and then at Rebecca as she went to her desk and typed away on her computer. He could already hear her typing feverishly at an insane speed. He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He nodded, knowing that they weren't in the best of circumstances after his little incident. And he had put them there with his recklessness. Understanding that he wasn't in the best shape, he needed to know what bones had been broken and where as soon as possible.

"Fine, let's go." Desmond muttered.

* * *

Alex walked down the street, head down and hands in his hoodie's pockets. A couple people pushed past him, and he resisted the urge to throttle them. It was taking all of his will power not to throw the next person that walked into him into the Hudson River, which was a couple blocks away from where he was walking. Thankfully, his glum attitude and natural predator-like nature kept the humans at bay.

He did not like the day, he felt like he was giving away his position for any Blackwatch who might've been nearby. But Blackwatch was gone and he couldn't sulk up on the rooftops until nighttime. Even if he could, he wouldn't do it today. Today was a special day and he wouldn't miss it even if the world was ending.

Today was visiting hours.

Alex checked to see if the wallet he stole from a previous victim was still there. He breathed in a sigh of relief as he felt the weight of the green papers in his pocket. The last time he checked, there was over two hundred dollars rolled up in the wallet. That would be enough.

Alex looked up to see if he was close to his first stop. His cold heart, if he actually had one, warmed a little when he saw the little green sign in a window that sprawled out _Adrianne's Bouquets and Flower Arrangements_.Every couple weeks Alex came to this store, and he had actually gotten well acquainted with the store's sole worker, Adrianne. She was a nice girl and wanted to bring happiness to others through her flowers, and Alex respected that.

But that didn't mean that he cared for her.

Alex walked into the shop, a wave of heat hitting him. The door chimed as it opened, and Adrianne's head poked out from the back. She recognized Alex and smiled. He waved stiffly and stood by the counter. Adrianne motioned for him to wait a second longer and disappeared back into the back room. A couple minutes passed, and Adrianne came back with a vase of flowers.

Adrianne was a young girl from Ohio, probably around her early to mid-twenties. She had short blond hair and always wore a sunhat that was too big. She usually wore a green apron over a t-shirt with a band logo on it, blue jeans, and a pair of red Converse. She was innocent, and didn't have any clue that one of her usual customers was a genetically engineered sociopathic killer. She was nice to everybody, even those who weren't nice in return. Adrianne even admitted once to Alex that she was a high school dropout, and that she was slightly embarrassed by that fact.

"Hello, Alex. I didn't expect to see you again until next Thursday." Adrianne stated as she walked past the man and set the vase on the display counter. She quickly went back behind the cash register and opened it up, ready to take his order. "I don't even have your order ready."

"Sorry I didn't call you, but they changed the visiting hours at the last minute." Alex said as he watched the young girl at work, his voice low and unfriendly. When she looked up at him, he dropped his gaze. "Can you make a rush order? I'll pay double for your inconvenience."

Adrianne sighed and thought for a moment. Finally she nodded and disappeared again. Alex was left waiting at the counter, money in hands, for his flower arrangement to be prepared.

"The usual, right?" Adrianne shouted from the back.

"Yeah, the one with the stuffed animal." Alex shouted back as he leaned against the counter. This would take a while, so why not get comfortable. He couldn't help but give off a soft, weak chuckle; he could never get comfortable with a human nearby.

"Help yourself to a soda, Alex. It's on the house." Adrianne shouted after a couple minutes of silence.

Alex thought for a second. It would be smart for him to take a soda. If he didn't, Adrianne would notice that something was off from him. Although somewhat comfortable with the girl, Alex was still careful not to give himself away. But he wouldn't drink the soda. He could still eat and drink human food once in a while, but it sickened the virus every time.

He decided to take a can, but wouldn't drink it. He'd say that he was saving it for later. Alex walked towards the shop's cooler and plucked a Coke off of the shelf. He put it in his pocket and continued to wait for his order to arrive.

Fifteen minutes later, Adrianne came out with Alex's order. It was a pale basket full of flowers, most of them purple in color. Inside the flowers was a small, stuffed cat, identical to the other ones from before. Alex wasn't an expert on flowers and couldn't name them by heart. He only faintly remembered Adrianne saying that his usual consisted of white roses, purple daises, and purple chrysanthemums, whatever those names meant.

Adrianne handed Alex the flower arrangement and he graciously took it by the handle. He inspected it and nodded to show that he was content with her fast work. She nodded back, knowing that even for a rush job, she did a damn good job.

"Well, your usual arrangement costs fifty dollars, so that'll a hundred." Adrianne stated as she opened up the cash register. Alex gave her the money he owed her and turned around to leave. He didn't wave goodbye, and was stopped when she called after him. "Hey, I've making those for over a year. When are you finally going to tell me who those are for?"

Alex just shook his head and left. Adrianne sighed and crept back to the rear of her shop.

He walked down the street towards his final destination: the hospital. When he finally arrived, he walked past the secretary on duty and ignored her questions about where he was going. Alex headed for the elevator, finally away from the annoying secretary, and pressed the button for the seventh floor. He waited in silence until the door opened, and he exited immediately.

Just down the hall, and the last room on the right, was where his sister was being held. Dana had been there ever since the outbreak was fully neutralized, and Alex had visited her twice every month with the same gift every time. She had made almost no progress, but Alex had remained hopeful that she would regain consciousness sometime soon. He even remained hopeful after years passed with no signs of progress.

Alex entered her room and stopped to stare at his younger sister. She hadn't changed from last week. Dana was still in a mint green medical gown, eyes closed and tucked under a thin, starch blanket. An IV was injected into her left arm, and her medical bracelet was around that arm's wrist. Dana's cardiac monitor was beeping steadily and at the same rate from his last visit.

Alex walked over towards Dana. He placed the flowers on the table next to her medical cot and positioned perfectly so it would be the first thing she saw if she woke up. When she woke up. A couple petals from last week's arrangement had remained on the table, and Alex swiped them off and they fell to the ground.

The virus returned his attention to his comatose sister. Her hair looked dirty and unhealthy, and was badly in need of a trim. She looked skinny and frail as if she wasn't getting enough nutrients through her IV, which was probably true. But what startled him the most every time he visited her was how pale her skin was. It was almost as pale as his skin, and that scared Alex. The only reason why his skin was so pale was because this body had been dead for hours, which was long enough for the bodies' temperature to dramatically drop, and his skin hadn't returned to its normal color since.

"Hey Dana." Alex greeted his sister. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't receive an answer, which was expected. So instead, Alex sat down on a plastic chair and watched his sister, still overprotective of her. Even with Dana in good hands, Alex didn't trust the doctors. The only reason why he had permitted Dana to reside in the hospital was because Ragland had advised him to do so. Now he was only allowed to see Dana a couple hours every other week, and Alex wasn't happy about that.

"I feel the same as last time." Alex continued, starting a conversation with himself. "Nothing that unusual happening in my life at the moment. The only thing interesting was that I ran into a man who had the guts to attack me. I let him get away, probably because that's what you would've wanted me to do. Though I think I freaked him out a bit."

His remark was met with the beeping of the cardiac monitor.

"No idea who he was, but he impressed me. Reminded me a bit of Cross with his initial determination, except he didn't look like military scum. Didn't act like military scum, either." Alex stated, thinking about his short tussle from last night. He enjoyed it, and the sight of the man's suffering had made it even better for him. "He did well defending himself, but like most humans, he lost his concentration. And that's when I got the upper hand."

A second passed, and Alex lost his train of thought. Only one thing came to his mind.

"Man, I miss you like hell, Dana." Alex whispered. He kept his eyes down on the floor tiles, trying to pick out the discrepancies between each tile. His permanent scowl was softened and it turned more sad than irritated. "Get better soon, okay kid?"

"You may not have that long to wait, Alex." A voice by the door said.

Alex looked up to see that Ragland was standing at the doorway. He looked unrecognizable without his green medical robe over his clothes. But Alex knew that this was the mortician that he trusted with both his and his sister's lives. Since the end of the outbreak, Ragland had retired and now resided alone in Brooklyn. The doctor did, however, visit Dana as much as possible because he knew how much the virus cared for her.

"What?" Alex asked, his voice strong and demanding. "What do you mean by that?"

Ragland stepped further into Dana's room, keeping an eye on the virus. Even though Ragland had worked with the Blacklight virus, he didn't necessarily trust him. After living through an apocalypse, Ragland had trouble trusting anybody. He was only helping Alex out for the virus's own sanity. The last thing Manhattan needed was another unstable, psychotic Runner.

"What I mean, Alex is that she's becoming more responsive with her treatments." Ragland stated as stopped at the foot of Dana's bed. He picked up Dana's charts from there and tossed it to Alex. Alex expertly caught it and looked at them for a brief second. The original Alex Mercer could read this without any trouble, but the virus's head was spinning too much for him to comprehend the data on the charts. There was just too much going on; he couldn't even comprehend Ragland's following words. "I've talked with her doctors. They switched her medication in hopes of a different result, and despite all the odds, it was successful. They believe that she'll regain consciousness within the month."

Alex was speechless. For years, he had been waiting for those words. And now, they were being offered to him on a silver platter. Alex frowned; nothing ever came that easily to him.

"What's the catch, Ragland?" The virus forced himself to ask.

The retired mortician sighed and rubbed his bald head. Alex stiffened and waited impatiently for the answer he didn't want to know. A couple seconds passed, and Alex couldn't take it. He started to scratch his head, one of his nervous habits, and forced his hood to fall down.

"There's a slight chance that her heart will give out before she is given the final dosage. But the chance is almost negligible. It's honestly something that you don't have to fret about." Ragland said confidently, pushing his glasses up. "If she's anything like you, she'll survive."

Alex stood up and eyed the mortician suspiciously. The man's choice of words did not soothe the virus. Alex let a small growl escape as he backed up towards the room's open window.

"That's just the thing, Doc. She's not like me." Alex grumbled. He gave Dana one last glance before returning his glare at Ragland. "Excuse me. I need to do some research on someone."

And with that, Alex jumped through the open window. Ragland ran to see where the Blacklight virus had ran off to, but he was already out of sight. Ragland furrowed his eyebrows; he was relieved that Alex was gone, but his parting words didn't settle on him. Ragland turned to look at the flowers that Alex had brought and saw the toy cat stuck between the flowers. Without thinking, the mortician plucked the toy cat out of the flowers and put it on Dana's pillow next to her head, hopefully to comfort the woman.

And with that, Ragland left the girl alone. He headed back towards the elevators, knowing that his time here had been used up. He had just been the messenger, and he had delivered the message. Now he wasn't needed by Alex, his job was done. He had the rest of his life to live in peace.

Ragland patiently waited for the elevator to reach his current floor. After a couple minutes, the elevator's doors finally opened, revealing two men and a young woman. The man in a white hoodie looked to be injured, for he was gasping in pain with each step, and Ragland silently prayed for him as he limped out of the elevator. The other two helped the poor man as he headed towards an empty room, where a nurse was waiting for him patiently.

"Good lord man, were you hit by a truck?" Ragland asked the limping man.

The hooded man chuckled, but stopped when the pain was too much. Ragland's heart stopped for the man. Whatever the man had been put through had also scared him out of his wits. A man could only take so much pain and fear, and it seemed that this man had already gone through too much.

"Sure feels like it, that's for sure." The hooded man said jokingly as he passed the mortician. "Just keep an eye out during rush hour and you'll be fine."

Ragland was positive that the man was hiding something from him, and whatever it was terrified the poor man.

* * *

Hey guys, I'd just like to say thanks for reading, reviewing, and for the support. I love reviews and I'll try to reply to them all, but I have quite a bad memory and somehow I'll probably forget. Sorry, it's just how my brain works. And while talking about my brain, there's probably a lot of grammar issues up there. Once again, sorry, grammar is just not my forte.

Thanks once again.


	4. Seeing is Believing

It turned out that Desmond only had a couple cracked ribs despite all the stress his body went through. The doctor told the group of assassins that he was extremely lucky that the ribs weren't broken. If they had been snapped, there would have been a good chance that the bones would have penetrated the internal organs. And that would have killed him. The doctor ordered that Desmond take it easy for a month; the ribs would heal by themselves if immobilized.

"Read a book or watch some television for the next couple weeks, Mr. Castillo." The doctor advised Desmond, using the fake name that they had given him. "I'd like to see you back here within a month to see your progress."

The assassins were pleased with the diagnosis, though they were certain that they wouldn't come back for a check-up. At least Desmond could still operate inside the Animus in his injured state, which was what they were worried about. For the three, it was a big wave of relief. They could continue on in their work without a huge setback.

"Thank you, doctor. I'll try to keep him on our couch as long as I can." Lucy said, jokingly.

The three got up, expecting this to be the end of their appointment. Shaun helped Desmond up and held onto his arm for support. Lucy was quick to join Shaun on Desmond's other side. Together, the three assassins headed back towards the elevators.

"I just have to ask one question before you leave." The doctor said as Desmond, Shaun, and Lucy left the room. The three assassins were put on high alert as they paused and waited for the doctor to continue. "How were you injured, exactly, sir? It seems you were put through extreme trauma, but only had minor injuries."

Well, they couldn't say that Desmond thought he was attacked by a monster that could morph his arm into a giant blade in the middle of the night. That would give all three of them a one-way ticket to the closest insane asylum. Shaun and Desmond were at a loss. They forgot to come up with a good back story on their way to the hospital, and now were bumbling about trying to get a story straight.

Lucy was the first to respond, however, and unlike the two men, she had spent the short walk to the hospital brainstorming. She already had a credible back story to tell the doctor. Lucy was also the most believable liar in the group too, due to her years as a mole in Abstergo Industries, so the two men just stood silent and let the woman do her magic.

"Well, my brother here," Lucy motioned to Shaun, "wanted to wrestle him. He didn't think that my little brother was strong enough to take him down. But in a couple of minutes, he was on the floor, gasping in pain."

"Uh, yeah. I didn't know he was that strong." Desmond agreed with Lucy's fake story. He just wanted to leave as soon as possible. "I've learned my lesson, that's for sure."

The doctor thought for a minute. There were a couple flaws in their story, but still believable to an extent. He eyed the group skeptically before nodding stiffly. It was enough of a dismissal for Shaun and he motioned for his two friends to follow him. They headed to the elevator and left the hospital a few minutes later.

Lucy hailed a cab, and the three took it to their hideout. When they entered the place, Rebecca was still typing away on her laptop. She waved when she saw them enter, but ignored them afterwards. Shaun and Lucy helped Desmond to the couch and let him fall onto it. As the couch caught him, a small layer of dust was launched into the air. Desmond didn't care and lay down after the pain in his side was too much.

"Here, take this." Lucy said as she gave Desmond a glass of water and a couple pills of aspirin. Desmond took the aspirin and quickly chugged it down. "Take it easy for a while. We still need to find this . . . monster that attacked you, if he really does exist."

Desmond was about to answer when Rebecca beat him to the chase.

"He does exist, Lucy. I've found him in a couple old files on the internet. He was a tough bugger to find, too." Rebecca said, catching the others' attention. She returned her gaze back to her computer's screen, knowing that she didn't have to look at them to keep their interest. "They were buried deep, as if someone was trying to hide them. And when I mean someone, I mean the United States government."

"Well, that doesn't sound good." Shaun stated as he joined Rebecca by her computer. He watched what the girl was doing from behind, peering over her shoulder. Shaun's eyes widened after a minute. "Is that the man?"

"Sure is. I've been digging around for a while, and check this out." Rebecca continued, her voice rising with anticipation. She was enjoying her little investigation, and she was just itching to enjoy her finds with the others. "I'm putting it on the big screen for you, Des, so you don't have to get up.

Rebecca typed away on her computer, and then grabbed the television's remote. She pressed a button, and the television's screen flickered on. A website was on the screen, and Rebecca's mouse clicked on what appeared to be a poorly taken video from a phone. The pixels were bad, but Desmond could see who it was.

It was the man from last night.

"Start the video, will you, Rebecca?" Shaun asked, scratching his chin while doing so. He was intrigued, and wanted to see what had scared Desmond so badly.

"Sure thing."

Rebecca clicked on the video, and it started to roll. The video started out with a woman screaming, and everyone except for Rebecca put their hands on their ears instinctively. But quickly put them down after the screaming was abruptly cut off. Whoever had been screaming had been silenced, permanently.

The person who was recording was running away from the source of the screaming, and they quickly jumped into an open taxi for safety reasons. The recorder leaned in against the taxi's seats, but kept his phone's camera close to the window, recording the carnage. His breathing was heavy, but he tried to silence it in an instant.

The group of assassins watched in horror as a man landed out of nowhere, creating a crater the size of a small car. The shockwave from the fall sent the taxi shaking, and the recorder had a hard time keeping still. The man didn't seem to be hurt from the fall. Rather, he seemed to just pick himself up as if it was no big deal. Desmond gulped; it was the same man that had attacked him.

There was a sound, and the man turned around. Whatever had caught his attention made him growl, showing his primitive-like hostility. It was a group of soldiers that had caught the man' attention, and they appeared in the lower left corner of the video. They carried heavy artillery, and simultaneously aimed it at the man.

"Give it up, Mercer! We've got you surrounded!" The lead soldier yelled at the man.

The man, who must have been Mercer, just chuckled and got into an offensive position. And just like last night, the man's arm started to mutate or transform into a giant blade. It was gigantic, at least the same size as him, and this forced the group of soldiers to subconsciously take a half step back. He jumped at the soldiers, blade ready. As the soldiers desperately tried to shoot him, he continued to advance on them. It looked like the bullets had no effect on him, and the soldiers were starting to back up even further.

"Fuck, retreat!" The lead soldiers finally ordered, but it was too late.

Mercer easily whacked the group of soldiers in half with his blade arm. Blood splattered everywhere and Desmond had a hard time keeping his eyes on the video. The soldiers fell to the ground, cut into pieces but still alive through their pain. The soldiers barely had time to scream before large tentacles appeared out of Mercer's body. It took only a few seconds before the tentacles had covered the men's dying bodies and began to rip the flesh apart. After a while, the group of soldiers had disappeared, only a puddle of fresh blood in their place.

The assassins watched in horror as the tentacles shrunk back in the man's body. The monster was covered in his victim's blood, and he even licked a bit of the red liquid off of his normal hand. Mercer looked around to see if there were any more soldiers around, and was contented to see no one who was a threat was around. However, Mercer finally noticed the man recording him, and walked towards him. Mercer glared at the phone wielding man, the same ice blue eyes that haunted Desmond. The recorder cried in fear, and tried to exit from the other side of the taxi. He looked back to see if Mercer was still there, but he had disappeared.

"Oh god," The recorder, who was obviously a male, wheezed out, "I could've been killed."

The video was then cut off. A replay button covered the screen and Rebecca's mouse hovered around it. But they didn't need to see it again. They already had enough to think about.

The room was silent for a long time; everybody was trying to keep their food in their stomachs.

"Anybody want to guess where this was?" Rebecca finally asked, her voice was like a knife as it cut through the silence. No one attempted to answer her, so she continued. "This was Manhattan in 2008, almost three years ago."

Shaun looked at the computer techie in exasperation. Like Lucy and Desmond, he was horrified with what he just witnessed. Shaun couldn't believe that that had been real life instead of an over the top gory movie from the eighties. He tried to find the right words, but instead started to gasp as he spoke.

"That can't be New York City! Why, that place looked like a war zone from bloody hell!" Shaun stammered. His mind was racing for a reasonable answer. "Where's all the evidence? Wouldn't we know that this happened since we_ live_ here?"

Rebecca shook her head slowly and stood up. She came over towards the rest of the assassins, her face grave and serious. Rebecca hesitantly sat down on the couch next to Desmond and looked at all the horrified expressions that they had. She remained silent for a second, wetting her lips as she went over the facts in her head.

"That's what I find horrifying. It _is_ New York, and _that_ whole thing had been covered up by the military. Apparently, there's a lot more situations similar to this one back in 2008. Same guy did it too." Rebecca ranted as she tried to tell them everything she knew quickly. "You have no idea how hard I searched to find that without running into some kind of firewall from the US government. But I managed to get past them and find some other stuff. You guys need to check it out."

"Like what?" Lucy asked, whispering.

"Like New York experienced a zombie apocalypse and no one knows it. Remember back in early 2009 when there was a big real estate boom here? _This_ is why." Rebecca motioned to the video on the television screen. "Almost everybody died. But that's not the interesting part. What was interesting was that this was a joint mistake with the military and a company called Gentek."

"I've heard that name before. It was a company owned by Abstergo before they went bankrupt." Lucy stated without thinking. "It specialized in genetics and medical research."

"So here's my question." Shaun stated, wanting to be a part of this discussion. He took his glasses off and cleaned them with his sweater's sleeve. He spoke as he put them back on. "How does this man, Mercer, fit between the military and a company once owned by Abstergo?"

Rebecca's eyes flashed with enthusiasm as she smiled, which didn't fit in with the others' miserable moods. She returned to her computer and pulled up some classified looking files. It was encrypted, but with the push of a button, the files were decoded into Standard English.

It was an old employee file. And the picture of the employee looked eerily familiar to Desmond.

"Say hello to Alex J. Mercer, a.k.a. the man who turned his arm into a fucking knife." Rebecca stated, sort of happy about how her detective work turned out, which didn't fit with the mood at all. "He was a lead scientist for one of the secret projects at Gentek, probably was one of their most valuable assets in their field of work. That is, before he went certifiably insane and stole something from them."

"What did he steal?" Lucy asked, concerned.

"No clue. Just not yet, at least. But it must have something to do with him turning into a monster and that zombie apocalypse I told you about earlier." Rebecca muttered as she typed away. On the television, Rebecca zoomed into Employed Alex Mercer's picture until it filled the screen. "Doesn't look like a killer to me. Just one pissed off dude."

The man wore a white lab coat, a little identification card hanging out of the coat's pocket that read: MERCER, ALEX J. He had loose, curly black hair that clung to his head that looked a tad messy. A pair of thick rimmed glasses covered his piercing blue eyes. He still had a scowl, but it wasn't as severe as the one he had during the video clip. Rebecca was right; he looked like an irritated but weak science nerd and not the kind of man who could kill. But Desmond knew better.

"But it is, Rebecca. It's always the one you least expect." Shaun muttered to himself, answering the girl's remark from earlier.

Desmond couldn't tear his gaze away from Alex's picture. Those ice blue eyes still terrified him, even if they weren't the eyes of a killer. Yet. But they still wanted to kill; it looked like they yearned to kill. Even this picture brought back the recent memories. It was too much for him, and he could feel his stomach churn. Ever so slowly, Desmond bent forward towards the floor.

"Desmond, are you alright?" Lucy interrupted the other assassins' conversation when she noticed Desmond's slight movement. "You don't look so hot."

"You got that right." Desmond muttered before puking his guts out.

* * *

Lucy exited Desmond's room and closed the door behind her. Desmond had blacked out after throwing up and the other assassins decided that it was best to let the man to rest for a couple days. She returned to the kitchen table where Shaun and Rebecca were silently discussing their newfound information. Lucy grabbed her mug of black coffee and sipped it while listening to her friends.

"Yes but, how can we be so sure?" Shaun said softly as if to not wake Desmond. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and scratched his chin roughly. "There's no link between the two."

"Sometimes, Shaun, you need to connect the dots on your own. The guy worked on a project for a company owned by Abstergo. Abstergo is the modern day face of the Templars, as you already know, and their goal is to control the masses and take out the assassins." Rebecca tried to explain, getting a little impatient with the Brit.

"Go on…" Shaun sighed as he tried to keep up with the computer techie's logic.

"So this Alex Mercer dude was most likely working on a project that'll wipe out the assassins. But something had gone wrong and he went insane." Rebecca speculated. "Now I'm just guessing, but the zombie apocalypse was a result of this man going insane. He turned into a monster and started killing everyone."

"And we already know this, but why—"

"Because maybe this project was the thing that turned Alex Mercer into a monster. Maybe the project was _supposed to_ turn someone into a monster so it could easily kill trained assassins. Even master assassins." Rebecca finally got to the point. She paused for a second to drink some of her own black coffee. "Maybe when the zombie apocalypse was under control, Abstergo caught Alex Mercer and told him the real reason he was a monster."

Lucy understood where the other woman was going. She swore before continuing Rebecca's thought process.

"And maybe this Alex Mercer's been hunting down assassins for years and just happened to bump into Desmond." Lucy bluntly said. "Maybe Desmond's lucky to be alive. And maybe we're in more dangerous waters than we thought."


	5. The Reunion

Alex sat on a green bench in Central Park, listening to the sound of children laughing while they played on a nearby playground. The parents kept to themselves, but still watched over their young ones like a hawk. The children's' screams of happiness slightly annoyed Alex, partially because he never was that happy when he was younger, or from what he remembered when he was younger.

But it was good background noise to have while he thought. Besides, no one paid attention to him when he came to this playground; the children and parents barely noticed him. While he was disguised as an eighty year old man with a cane, people tend not to think that he's a monster. And with his disguise, the playground had turned into one of his usual spots to visit during the day.

Alex had a lot on his mind at the moment, and for good reasons too. His sister would be out of her coma soon, and he was as close to being delighted he could get. His sister was the only person he felt close to, and he needed her for his own sanity. Dana . . . with him again. The thought still sent waves of shock rolling through him.

Dana wasn't the only thing on his mind. Alex was still thinking about the man in the alleyway. He still had no idea who he was. This man was like a riddle to him, and Alex just had to solve it. It kept gnawing on him. He had spent the last week after visiting Dana trying to track down the man. For days Alex had been running around Manhattan searching for the man in the white hoodie.

However, it was easier said than done. Trying to find the right hooded man out of seven million people was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. While possible, it was highly improbable. Alex lost his patience just last night while searching in Harlem. The result was a tree now currently resided in a shoe department's second floor. He heard news reports from his actions earlier this morning, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

But Alex had to lay low for a while. That little stunt was drawing too much attention and the police were getting suspicious. He didn't want to lose his cover after all these years. He'd have to act human-like for the next couple days before continuing his search. And that meant blending in. Alex sighed, already annoyed at the thought.

So, while lying low, Alex decided to search online for any clues. He still remembered the fight very clearly, so clearly that he felt like he could step back in and watch the two of them fight again. Even now, he felt the rush of the fight and the instincts that screamed at him to kill, to taste the hooded man's blood. Alex remembered fighting against these urges off so he could feed his curiosity, not the virus.

The man had a weapon that belonged on his forearm, and Alex, or any of his memories, wasn't familiar with this weapon. It had surprised him slightly when with a simple flick of the man's wrist sent a small but lethal blade out at him. It looked ancient and Alex knew that it belonged from a different time period, to a time where the weapon would have been most affective. Even though the weapon was old, the blade looked advanced and must've been perfected over many centuries of tweaking.

It had been perfected to kill.

Earlier this day, Alex went to the New York Public Library to use one of the free computers there. He had spent most of the afternoon there, searching file after file for a weapon, but only finding stubs of articles. The only information he gained from his time there was that the weapon had been created some time during the Crusades.

But that was on a conspiracist site, where he even found some photos of himself floating around, much to his annoyance.

However, on what looked like a more reliable sight, Alex learned that the blade had been infrequently used some time during the Renaissance in Italy, but had since disappeared. He even found some ancient designs of the weapon, and noticed the similarities to the one that the hooded man had.

After that, a security guard at the library started to keep a suspicious eye on Alex for looking up weapons on the internet. Alex had decided to leave soon afterwards and had headed to the playground in his old man disguise.

The sun started to set, and the children's parents started to bring their young ones home. Alex stayed a while longer and enjoyed the newfound quietness. After an hour passed, Alex was the last one left in that part of the park and quickly changed back to his normal appearance. He decided to leave Central Park when he noticed a passing cop looking at him suspiciously. Alex quickly stood up and exited the park when he saw the cop pull out a walkie-talkie. That was his signal to leave. He quickly headed south towards the more crowded part of Manhattan, where he would blend in easily.

It grew dark quickly, and Alex soon felt like he was back in his own environment. He felt more confident in the night, and he sped up his pace. But Alex abruptly stopped when his body started to grumble in hunger. Alex swore, he must have used up all of his extra biomass while searching Manhattan for the hooded man. He didn't realize how much energy he had used up the past few days.

"Fine," Alex sighed, slightly irritated. He stepped into an alleyway and started to climb up the nearest building. "I'll get a bite to eat before I find another place to think."

* * *

"What the hell are you doing in there? Baby is not a toy! She's a delicate piece of equipment!" Rebecca shouted into her headset, the stress finally getting to her. They had been at this for several hours, and the group of assassins hadn't made any progress yet. "We're gonna have to pull you out, Desmond. You're not focusing on the mission."

It had been almost a week since Desmond's last trial with the Animus. Together, the assassins decided that he needed a break from running around in Ezio's memories after his run in with Mercer. They couldn't predict what the stress of that encounter would do to Desmond's psychological health if he was pulled straight back into the Renaissance. But as the days passed by, they all grew too anxious not to continue on with their work.

However, nothing was working out properly, and they had been forced to abort Ezio Auditore da Firenze's memories several times.

After working her magic, Rebecca managed to successfully pull the assassin out of the Animus, her Baby. Desmond's eyes fluttered around under closed eyelids, showing the other three that his mind was still trying to put itself together again. Rebecca and Lucy shared a worried glance, all the stress that Desmond was going through was probably speeding up the Bleeding Effect.

"Desmond, what's your status?" Rebecca asked as she started to turn off the Animus. It only took a couple minutes before Baby was powered off, hibernating. Soon, the only sound in the room was the machine's soft humming. They waited for him to answer, but he didn't respond. "Desmond, status report."

Desmond finally opened his eyes, but was soon rubbing them with the palms of his hand. He couldn't think straight and was moaning due to a sever migraine. He sat up and swung his feet over to one side. Every time he was put in the Animus, it was harder for Desmond to tell whether he was or wasn't his ancestor Ezio.

"_My head feels like a horse kicked it."_ Desmond muttered in Italian without realizing it._ "But other than that, fine."_

Shaun and Lucy looked at each other, nervous. This wasn't the first time Desmond had spoken Italian as soon as he was pulled out of the Animus, but it was usually just a couple words that he would mix up. What scared them was that this was the first time he spoke a complete sentence in Italian, let alone two.

Desmond looked up at the other assassins and noticed how worried they were. He didn't know that he had just spoken Italian perfectly and in Ezio's exact accent. All he could think was that he had done something wrong while inside the Animus. He gave them a confused look as he stood up slowly and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water.

"What?" Desmond finally asked in English. And with that, their faces were washed with relief. But they were still nervous. He started to get defensive; usually the only time they gave him that look was when something went horribly wrong. He frowned slightly when he saw Shaun shake his head in a disapproving matter. Now he knew that something turned for the worse. "I'm not seeing ghosts right now, that's a plus, right? So what's wrong?"

Rebecca sat down at her desk and pulled her earphones off. She scratched her head and stared at Desmond in disbelief. After a second, she sighed and put her feet up on Shaun's desk. The Brit put her feet down roughly, only to have her put them back up as soon as he wasn't looking.

"You mean you didn't realize that you were speaking perfect Italian?" Rebecca asked, giving him a look.

"Uh…" Desmond muttered after taking a sip from his water bottle. "No?"

"That's a bad sign, Desmond. You're losing your mind faster than we anticipated." Lucy told him, her voice cold and serious. She knew this would happen sooner or later, but not this early on in their research. "I should have given you another week for you to rest your mind. We're going to have to take this at a slower tempo, guys."

Shaun moaned and slammed his head on his desk, careful not to break his glasses. He was starting to lose what little patience he had left. The other three ignored him, knowing that he was probably in one of his moods. Desmond continued to drink from his water bottle as he thought of the situation at hand.

"I'm tired of sitting around here." He finally muttered, sounding determined. He glanced at the window and noticed that it was dark out. He didn't realize how long he had been in the Animus. It must have been several hours. "I need fresh air."

"Desmond, you're still hurt. You need to rest." Lucy told the assassin in a motherly fashion. It was true, Desmond's sides still ached, but the pain was far less than last week. It barely bothered him now. "And as for fresh air? I'll open a window for you."

"No." Desmond bluntly said before Lucy could stand up. They shared a glare with each other before Lucy pulled away. She cared for Desmond, but he could be really stubborn when he wanted to be. "I mean I need to get out, stretch my legs. Walk around the city for a while. Enjoy some sights or something, hell I don't know."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms and looked at Desmond expectantly. Although they had been working together for months, Lucy still didn't understand Desmond at all._ Of_ _all things he could be thinking about,_ she thought, _why in the world would he want to go outside where a genetically engineered monster could be tracking him down to kill him?_

"You mean, outside. Where this Alex Mercer is?" Lucy proved her point.

She watched all the color in Desmond's face disappear in an instant. And then she had to admit it, she felt guilty for scaring him like that. But she needed to give him the facts straight, and going outside meant that he risked his own life. But Desmond was quick to hide his fear, and he shook his head as he stiffly walked to the door.

"If Mercer really wanted to kill me, he would have done it that night." Desmond said more to himself than to her. He rested his hand on the doorknob, and it felt like it was as hot as an iron. "You saw that video, he didn't hesitate to chop those soldiers up. So why didn't he do that to me?"

"Probably because he didn't have direct orders to kill you then." Shaun answered, his voice muffled because he was still resting his head on his table. "But now that he knows you're here, he'll gut you like a bloody fish before you even know it."

Desmond quickly glanced at Shaun, a weird look on his face. When he spoke to the Brit, his voice was cynical. "Well, thanks for the encouragement Shaun, you're a_ real_ friend."

"Anytime, mate." Shaun's muffled, sarcastic response went ignored by the others.

Desmond looked back at Lucy, who seemed to be debating the problem mentally. It looked like she was torn between granting the man his freedom or by protecting him from something unnatural. She noticed that Desmond was staring at her, pleading, and she sighed. He unlocked the door and it creaked open slightly.

"Please, Luce. Just for half an hour." Desmond started to beg.

That did it.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you. And at the first sign of danger, we're coming back." Lucy said as she grabbed her jacket and her cheap cell phone. She tugged onto Desmond's shoulder and led him down the stairs ever so gently. "I must be out of my fucking mind."

Desmond chuckled slightly, deserving a glare from Lucy. She was still tempted to turn around and dump him back on their couch in the hideout. Desmond noticed this and quieted down. They made their way outside after a while, and Lucy started leading him away from their building and up northwards. She seemed to know where to go, and Desmond just allowed her to take the reins for once.

"So, where are you taking me on this very fine night?" Desmond asked, jokingly flirting with his friend as if to lighten up the mood.

"Not, in the mood, Desmond." Lucy stated as she led him across a street. She had a scowl on her face, but it seemed to lighten up the further they got from their hideout. "We're going to a bar that I like. It's small and quiet. No one usually goes there, so we'll be safe."

Desmond frowned. "Not what I had in mind, but I'll live."

Lucy rolled her eyes. The two assassins took their time walking down the streets. Even though it was springtime, the air was particularly chilly, and Desmond thought that it would snow tonight. He frowned again. He didn't like snow. After spending months in Italy and in the Middle East, he had grown accustomed to warm weather. The cold didn't sit well with him, not at all.

The two finally arrived at the bar Lucy had spoken about. And she was right, it looked small and deserted. Soft, soothing music played in the background and it seemed to instantly relax the bothered assassins. There were just two other people enjoying themselves, not including the sole bartender. It wasn't exactly how he pictured his half hour of freedom, but he would take what was offered.

"Come on, let's take a seat." Lucy whispered as she pushed Desmond towards the counter. They took their seats, and the bartender patiently waited for their order. Lucy wasn't very interested in a drink so she just sighed and looked at Desmond. "I'll have whatever he's having."

The bartender nodded and looked at Desmond expectantly. He bit his lip as he thought of all the different drinks he used to make back when he tended Bad Weather. Finally, he just said the first beer name that came to his mind.

"Can I have a Heineken?" Desmond asked.

The bartender nodded and swiftly gave the two their bottles of alcohol. Desmond expertly opened both of their bottles and gave Lucy hers. They silently toasted together and then went on to enjoy their beverages in peace. They barely talked; there was just too much stress from the situation at hand to try to diffuse it.

A couple minutes passed, and the other patrons from the bar left, leaving only Desmond and Lucy to ponder their thoughts. Finally, after a couple minutes of shared silence, Desmond had to ask something.

"Are you really that worried?" Desmond asked. He was talking about Mercer.

"Are you really scared that easily by him?" Lucy retorted, her eyes flashed with confidence. She already knew the answer.

A second passed. The soft music quickly changed to a classic rock song from the sixties. Desmond recognized the artist as the Rolling Stones.

"Yeah…" Desmond finally stated. He kept his eyes down in embarrassment.

"Well, you should be. That guy is a killer and this _is not_ the safest thing to be doing." Lucy pointed out, yet again, motioning to the two of them being in the bar. She paused and chugged down her Heineken quickly before continuing. "He could be anywhere right now, watching our every movement. And here we are, enjoying ourselves with a bottle of beer."

Desmond couldn't help but give the girl a funny look. He chuckled at bit, which gave him a well deserved punch on the shoulder. He shrugged it off and looked at her, serious again.

"Here's how I see it, Luce. There are just about seven million people in this city. What's the chance that Mercer just decides to come to this bar this night and walk through that door right now—"

Desmond couldn't finish, he was cut off when the bar's door was forced open. The two assassins turned around just in time to see the monster they were talking about trudge in, shoulders hunched and head down. They froze in place, not even breathing. Mercer didn't notice their presence and just sat down at a table in the far corner. He kept his head down, and he was soon rubbing his head as if it bothered him.

A couple seconds passed, and the two assassins finally risked sharing a glance. Both of their eyes screamed terror. There was no way that they could stand up and leave without Mercer noticing them, and it was too dangerous to stay and try to defend themselves. Desmond and Lucy couldn't do anything, so they just kept their mouths shut.

The bartender, however, did not share their fear. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hand and grinned slightly.

"What can I get you for tonight, my good man? I haven't seen you around in months. Been outta town?" The bartender asked the monster, shouting across the small bar to get the man's attention. Both assassins flinched at the sound of how casual the man was with Alex. "You want the usual?"

Alex muttered something inaudible before answering the bartender. His voice sent chills down Desmond's spine. He had the urge to run, and if it wasn't for Lucy clinging onto his hoodie's sleeve like a death trap, he would've made a run for it by now, most likely through the nearest window.

"Not tonight, Marty, I still don't feel very good. I just need time to—" Alex stopped midsentence when he looked up to talk with the bartender he was acquainted with. The first thing he saw was Desmond and how terrified he looked at that moment. The virus inside Alex squirmed with joy; he had found him at last. Now he only had to curb his curiosity for the man. "Actually, I think I'd like to try one of your specialties."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back." The bartender said. He was fully unaware of the mounting hostility in the room.

As soon as the bartender left to make Alex his drink, there was nothing to hold the Blacklight virus back. He kept his predatory like glare on Desmond as he slowly stood up. He leaned against the table he had been sitting at. Alex didn't know what to do or how to act now that he had found the hooded man; he hadn't thought that far into his plan.

"Hello." Alex dumbly stated, but his voice still sounded like a growl to the assassins. Desmond flinched at the sound of his voice, and the virus felt a bit more excited about this unexpected encounter. He sighed softly before continuing. "I've been looking for you for a while now."

Desmond didn't respond, and Lucy was trying her hardest to keep her eyes focused on the man. Every single movement Alex made only made her more paranoid. He was probably going to attack them at any moment. Alex waited patiently for an answer, but he received none.

"Look, I'm trying to be polite. It's not really one of my better . . . qualities." Alex stated, becoming impatient. "If you want, I can just ask you some questions my usual way."

Desmond didn't want to find out what his usual way of asking questions was. He just tried to keep a steady poker face as he nodded for Alex to continue. The virus smirked, knowing that he always had a way with words when it came to people who saw him in all his glory.

"Who are you?" Alex suddenly asked, his voice low.

"Desmond, Desmond Miles." The assassin gulped. He was having trouble finding his voice.

"Mine's Alex."

"We already know that." Lucy quickly snapped at the virus. She quickly caught her mistake, but it was too late. Her response seemed to shatter Alex's somewhat polite attitude, and then he was back to the raging monster that the assassins witnessed in the video clip.

And what happened next was like a bomb exploding.

"How? How the hell do you know that?" Alex growled, his body literally trembling as he grew more aggravated. The two assassins were left speechless. Alex had lost his patience for the two humans. He slowly advanced on the group, his ice blue eyes cold and deadly. There was no escape for Desmond and Lucy; all they could do was back up into the bar's counter like trapped mice. As soon as Alex was close enough, he grabbed Desmond by the throat and held him high. "Tell me!"

"We did some research online; found an old video of you." Desmond struggled to say, Alex's grip was too hard and he could barely breathe. "Found out you worked for Gentek and shit."

"What do you know about Gentek?" Alex asked, his voice now a snarl. The virus inside of him begged Alex to consume Desmond, knowing that it would be so much easier to gain knowledge than this way. Alex was really tempted to, so when Desmond was at a loss for words, he decided. "I have other ways of interrogation, you know. More permanent ways."

"Alex!" The bartender finally came back. He looked horrified to see what Alex was doing, and he held his cell phone ready in his hand. "I'm calling the cops if you can't control yourself."

"Call them, Marty. I'll be done in a few sec—"

Alex couldn't finish his statement. Lucy had decided that this was enough for one day. She quickly pulled out a small pistol that she had smuggled out of their hideout and put a couple rounds in Alex's head. The virus's head soon resembled melted Swiss cheese, and Desmond had a hard time keeping his lunch. Lucy knew that that wouldn't kill Alex, but hoped it was enough to distract the virus long enough to leave.

However, Alex didn't give the assassins the opportunity to escape. Instead, the virus tightened his grip on Desmond as his head quickly reformed back to what it originally looked like. Alex glared at Lucy, and she clung to the gun as if it was her life source.

"Lucy, get the hell out of here!" Desmond struggled to mutter, but his words weren't lost on the woman.

"That was a stupid thing to do." Alex muttered to her, ignoring Desmond's words. He then powerfully threw Desmond into the back wall. The assassin cried out in pain as he fell to the cold ground, unconscious. The virus stared at Desmond, seeing the man in pain thrilled the virus a bit. But he wasn't done. Alex returned his attention to Lucy, only to see her trying to leave the bar in a mad dash. "Leaving without Miles? You're such a team player."

And with that, Alex's hands transformed into large, menacing claws. The woman knew just as much as Desmond did, maybe even more, so Alex decided that she was the real target. Alex was just about to jump out of the window and chase the other assassin down when he heard the sound of smashing glass caught his attention. Someone had shot a small canister through the window, and it only took Alex a second to remember what it was. It was a canister of highly concentrated Bloodtox.

"How the hell?"

That was all Alex could say before the canister exploded, covering him in a thick layer of the red liquid. As soon as he started to breathe the Bloodtox in, he knew that he was a goner. After so many years without the stuff around, his immunity to it had vanished. It only took him a couple minutes of coughing and rolling around the floor before he was incapacitated.

A few minutes passed and Marty reappeared from where he was hiding, looking terrified. He still held his cell phone in his right hand, but he was much less controlled than before. He had just seen too much and had been too close for comfort. The bartender quickly dialed 911 before his nerves overtook him.

"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?" A female operator asked.

"A man in my bar just tried to kill someone. Both the man and his victim are unconscious." Marty stated quickly, shock threatening to take over him. "The address is East 59th—"

A sniper round to the head silenced the bartender. The bartender slowly fell back and dropped his phone. Four blocks away, on the top of a low rise building, sat three men in black. The three were heavily armed to the teeth. All of them had Abstergo's logo on their left shoulder. A couple seconds passed, and then the leader of the three stood up and pulled out a small two way radio.

"Command, this is Team Delta. We have incapacitated both targets and are waiting evac. pronto, over." The man said softly.

"Rodger, Team Delta. HQ is sending a unit out to detain the targets as we speak, over." A voice over the radio informed the team's leader. "Return to base, over."

"Rodger, over and out."

* * *

If you wondered what Rolling Stones song I thought would be playing during the bar scene, it'd be Satisfaction, because Alex can't get any!

And thank you for all of the feedback! This is my first time writing anything from Prototype or Assassin's Creed, so I'm still trying to find a way to write all of these characters while trying to stay true to their personality. And apparently, I've been doing a good job for a first.

And you've probably noticed by now that I like to write cliff hangers and meddle with irony, so expect more in the future. *wink wink, nudge nudge, Bob's your Uncle*


	6. Mission: Implausible

Shaun and Rebecca sat on the couch, in their pajamas and wrapped head to toe in both of Lucy's quilts. All of the lights were off in their apartment; the only light source was the small TV that was playing one of Rebecca's favorite movies. Other than that, the place was completely encased in darkness. The two were snacking on a still warm popped bag of microwave popcorn, but were soon depleting it.

As the night grew longer, the two assassins found themselves coming closer to each other subconsciously, snuggling in a way. Shaun wasn't enjoying the movie as much as Rebecca, and was soon shuddering in fear. Rebecca, however, was thrilled with showing the Brit her favorite monster/horror from the 1980's. To her, the film was a cult classic.

"Now, what is this called again?" Shaun asked. His voice was sheepish as he dug himself further into the couch's cushions.

"Duh, Shaun, it's The Thing." Rebecca stated it as if it was obvious. She quickly opened up another can of her favorite energy drink and chugged half of it down. She smiled as her body buzzed with the overflow of caffeine. "Staring Kurt Russell, it's a horror movie classic! In my opinion, it's one of the best ones too, even if it didn't do well at the box office."

"This is utterly repulsive and dimwitted, Rebecca. I honestly don't understand why you enjoy it so much." Shaun muttered, cringing when the film got to a considerable gory part.

"Hey, don't knock it until we get to the end." Rebecca said as she nudged the Brit with her closest elbow, which caused him to flinch at her touch. Her smile flashed in the dark, and to Shaun, it looked like the computer techie had gone insane. She probably had with the amount of sugar in her sleep deprived system. "Trust me, it gets _worse_."

"_Worse?_" He voice literally squeaked.

Rebecca laughed at Shaun's sheepish response; he reminded her of herself when her father first showed her The Thing. She was five years old at the time, and she could remember when jumped into her father's lap at the climax of the movie. Her father just laughed at her and took her into a great big bear hug. They watched it again a week after that, and Rebecca's fear had vanished instantly, she had been laughing at it with her father.

She smiled at the memory. She missed her father.

She quickly returned her attention back to the movie, which was finally at her favorite part. She grabbed a handful of the popcorn and kept her eyes glued onto the television screen. A piercing scream filled the air, and Shaun practically jumped off of the couch. This only gave Rebecca the right to laugh her ass off for a quick second.

"Relax, it was just the movie." Rebecca stated as she grabbed the Brit's arm and pulled him down, trying to control herself from laughing again.

Suddenly, Lucy jumped through the window, breaking the glass pane. She jumped in sync with the movie; another scream highlighting her daring break in. Shaun couldn't take it and he screamed like a girl himself before covering his head with a quilt. Rebecca was undisturbed by Lucy's entrance and smiled at the assassin.

"Hey, Luce, what took you so long? And where's Desmond?" Rebecca asked. It took the woman a second to realize what she had just said. "Oh god, where's Desmond?"

Her bun was falling out, she was covered in what appeared to be dirt and grease, and she was panting like she had just sprinted several hours. Basically, she looked like a wreck. And Lucy knew it too, because she didn't answer Rebecca and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. She had to quench her thirst first before doing anything else.

Lucy looked at the two other assassins before quickly turning the television off. Any other time Rebecca would have complained and grabbed the remote to turn the TV back on. But one of their own was missing, and Lucy had to tell them what happened.

"Shaun, get out of the covers now. Desmond was kidnapped again. We need to get him back now." Lucy said, talking at a million miles an hour. She was panicking herself, and she knew she was at fault here. "They've probably already brought him back to—"

"Wait, calm down Luce. What happened exactly, and say it _slower_." Rebecca ordered as she sat up and turned a lamp on. "Sit down while you're at it, too."

Lucy sighed and sat down on the kitchen table, staring at Rebecca and Shaun with panicked eyes. Every second she spent telling them was a second that something back was happening to Desmond. As soon as the other two assassins were ready, Lucy went into great detail about what had happened in the past hour or so.

She started with their unexpected encounter with Alex Mercer and how he turned murderous when they mentioned Gentek, and then how they were almost killed. Lucy also explained how she was forced to leave Desmond back with Mercer and how she had perched herself on a nearby fire escape. She had finally reached the fire escape, only to watch a bunch of Abstergo thugs carry both Alex mercer and Desmond out to load them into the back of a truck.

"Trust me, if there was any way I could've done to help without killing myself, I would've done it." Lucy said after she brought the others up to date. "I felt so helpless just watching them cart him away next to that monster."

Shaun sighed and placed his right hand on Lucy's shoulder. He knew how bad she must have felt, and he somehow felt equally guilty. He rubbed Lucy's should slightly to comfort her, and she ended up bursting into sobs.

"It's alright, luv. We'll get him back in no time." Shaun said softly. He didn't know how exactly, but he knew that they would get Desmond back. "Rebecca, can you hack into Abstergo and see where they're taking Desmond?"

"Already on it." Rebecca stated as she typed away on her computer. Shaun and Lucy patiently waited as Rebecca hacked into the company's database and searched for the assassin. After a couple seconds passed, the computer techie smirked. "Either I'm getting better at this or Abstergo's getting worse at protecting their files. Looks like they're taking him south. You know, down to their New York Headquarters in the Financial District."

"What's their plan?" Lucy asked, her voice still hitched.

"Give me a sec, 'kay?" Rebecca muttered. She continued to dig in Abstergo's files until she found it. "Here, they want to put him in the Animus again to see if his other ancestors knew where some Pieces of Eden are. From what it looks like, their directive is to induce him into a permanent coma . . ."

Lucy put a fist to the kitchen table, startling the other two assassins. Her gaze had turned from fretful to forceful in an instant. She knew that they didn't have much time before Desmond was lost forever. She shot up into a standing position and then barged into her small room, leaving the door wide open for Shaun and Rebecca to see she was arming herself for an attack.

"What do you think you're doing, Lucy?" Shaun asked Lucy as she grabbed Desmond's hidden blade and strapped it onto her forearm.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Lucy retorted, her voice grave. The assassin tested the blade out and was relieved when the hidden blade seamlessly slid out. "I'm getting Desmond back."

"Whoa, whoa whoa whoa! You can't just barge into that place and expect to live, let alone coming out unscathed." Shaun pointed out. He grabbed Lucy by the shoulders as if to shake some sense into her. She patiently waited for Shaun to stop, but time was running short. "We need plans, the building's blueprints, and an entry and escape route. If you go now, we'll lose both of you."

"Shaun's mostly right, Luce." Rebecca stated before Lucy could respond. "If you go in, they win. We can't afford to lose you two. _But_ one of us should go and get him before it's too late."

"Who, then?" Lucy asked, a bit flustered.

Rebecca flashed an immature smile. "Me."

"What, you? You can't be serious?" Shaun exclaimed; he was flabbergasted at her response. "You'd be best behind the scenes providing logistical support."

"Well, here's how I see it: I've been good at infiltration my entire life due to playing sports as a young age and by training with other assassins. I'm a pretty good gunslinger, if I do say so for myself. Plus, I've been working on a couple gadgets that are perfect in this situation." Rebecca pointed out.

Rebecca walked to her desk and opened a drawer, revealing the gadgets that she talked about. She pulled one out in particular and put it on her head. They were a pair of futuristic looking goggles. "I've modified these night vision goggles that I stole a while ago so whatever appears on my desktop will appear in the right lens."

"And this is helpful . . . how?" Shaun pointed out.

"While I'm running around Abstergo looking for Desmond, you guys will need to keep me updated. My headphones have a connection with this computer, so I'll be able to hear what you're saying and talk back. I've even pulled everything up while you were talking. All that you'll need to keep me in the loop is there. You just need to follow the instructions on my computer and everything will work out." Rebecca stated as she adjusted the modified night vision goggles. "Trust me with this one, guys."

* * *

"How many more floors?" Rebecca whispered softly. Half an hour had passed since she departed from their safe house. She was currently climbing up the Abstergo's duct and ventilation system. It wasn't an easy task; there were only a couple small ridges every foot or so where she could support her whole body weight. It was tough work, and it wasn't made easier in almost complete darkness. But it reminded her of all the times she went rock climbing with her father. It still exhilarated her. "Am I close?"

"Er . . ." Shaun muttered as he tried to find the right file on her computer. "Oh, here it is. Yes, you are. Just a couple more feet and you'll reach the 27th floor. After that, you'll end up in what appears to be a janitor's closet."

Rebecca nodded and pushed herself slowly up towards her destination. If she lost her balance now, she'd plummet down back to the first floor, or below that, killing herself. She steadied herself as she pulled herself up and found her exit: a poorly constructed ventilation grate.

With one swift and steady punch, the ventilation grate popped off and clattered against the floor. It hurt her hand a bit, but she could ignore it for right now. Rebecca shook her hand for a couple seconds and then pulled herself out of the ventilation system and steadied her breathing.

"Okay, I'm in. Keep an eye on those security cameras, or shit'll hit the fan." Rebecca whispered. She looked at her surroundings, and sure enough, she was in a janitor's closet just like Shaun had told her. She stood up and tried to open the door, only to find out that the handle wouldn't move. "Fuck, it's locked. Is there a code or something to open it?"

"That won't be necessary, Rebecca." Lucy's voice filled the woman's ears. "After years of snooping around in that place, you learn a thing or two. There's a weak spot in the doorknob's design. If you hit the doorknob at a sixty-five degree angle with enough force, it'll break silently. But wait for a second, a guard is passing by your position."

Rebecca waited in silence, hearing footsteps pass her after a while. She instinctively stopped breathing, thinking that the guard could hear her pants from her ascent up the ducts. Rebecca looked at her computer screen through her modified glasses and mentally swore. From what data files she could see displayed, they were running out of time before Desmond became a vegetable plugged into an Animus.

"Do it now, Rebecca." Lucy ordered the computer techie in a hushed voice.

Rebecca didn't hesitate to hit the doorknob after estimating which angle was the correct one. As soon as she hit it, the doorknob snapped in half, and Rebecca could open it with ease. Rebecca exited the janitor's closet and waved at a nearby security camera, knowing that only Shawn and Lucy could see her. She had been smart enough to tap all the important cameras before leaving.

"Good, it worked. The next guard will come by in about eight minutes. That's your time limit to find Desmond before the guards tip someone off."

"Thanks, Luce." Rebecca nodded; she liked the rush of a time limit. She headed down the hallway, running at a safe pace and avoiding any security cameras she forgot to tap beforehand.

"Head to your right. There's only one guard stationed there, and he'll be easy to take out. Just do it _silently._" Lucy ordered her.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and turned around the corner to see the guard that Lucy was talking about. He was slacking off, leaning against the wall and dozing. The guard started to snore for a second before waking up and snapping his head up. He grumbled about something before crossing his arms and getting somewhat comfortable again. He had a pistol by his side, and Rebecca eyed it warily.

She quietly crept up on him. He didn't even notice her until her arms were around his neck, and by then, it was too late. Rebecca twisted his neck, snapping his spine in the process, and let the dead body fall to the ground. She didn't give him a passing glance as she sprinted down the halls.

"Good job, Rebecca." Shaun praised the woman, a hint of awe in his voice. "Back here, it looks like Desmond is being held in what I think is a detention cell. The cell's number is 17-HU. Find it. There will be plenty of guards stationed, so instead of trying to kill all of them, try to sneak past them."

"That's easier said than done, Shaun." Rebecca softly whispered as she almost ran into a pair of guards.

She managed to dodge them before they spotted her. As they passed her, she quickly knocked them out, but not before taking a swing to the face. Stumbled back, holding her chin as she felt a bruise start to form. She took great pride in her skills, even if they weren't as good as most assassins. But that was a little too close for comfort.

"And keep an eye on those security cameras, just ran into a couple of guards." Rebecca muttered as she spat at the unconscious guards. Her spit was red in color.

"Sorry." Lucy apologized quickly. "That was my fault. I went to fix myself a cup of coffee."

Rebecca didn't respond, she was too busy trying to look at the map on her goggles. From what she could tell, Desmond's cell block was one of the further ones, and that meant she would have to pass more guards on the way. She picked up her pace once she was done checking out the floor's blueprints.

The computer techie finally entered the detention center. She saw how many guards there were and silently swore. There was no way she was going to be able to sneak by them all. And somehow, the other two assassins knew this.

"Change of plans, Rebecca." Lucy stated. "Take as many out as you can."

Rebecca nodded and took off her backpack quickly. She pulled out two pistols and loaded them as if it was one of her bad habits. As she pulled her backpack back on, she aimed her weapons and stood out in the open. She kept her eyes focused on her targets. The guards saw her, but couldn't react in time. Rebecca swiftly shot any guard she saw in the head. Fortunately, she had been quick enough to not get shot at again.

"Wow, Rebecca, I'm impressed." Shaun said through the sound of shots being fired. "I didn't know you could handle guns that easily."

"Told you I was good. My old man was smart enough to teach me at a young age." Rebecca muttered as she reloaded her pistols. "But now they know I'm here."

Rebecca continued to run through the Detention Center. But she noticed how empty the cells were. The assassin barely saw anyone other than a couple old men that she assumed they had wronged Abstergo in some way or another. She wondered if they were assassins, but she would've known by now if there were others in the Order that were being held. It wasn't until she reached a fork in the halls did she finally see someone she faintly recognized.

Alex Mercer, _thee _Alex Mercer, was being held in the detention cell to her left. She practically tripped when she saw the man being drizzled with the cells' emergency fire system. He wasn't moving, but rather sitting perfectly still like a statue. He was just sitting in the middle of the room, looking exceptionally miserable as a constant stream of water dripped onto him. Occasionally, he would go into a mad coughing fit like a man that had the Black Plague.

Rebecca just stood there, entranced in a way. The monster that she had watched, horrified by his actions, and heard would rip a man to pieces instantly looked almost weak and vulnerable right now. Why on earth would Abstergo hold a valuable asset in a detention cell?

"_Probably because Mercer wasn't an asset of Abstergo's."_ Rebecca thought to herself. She knew. He was just like Desmond, just another prisoner.

Something was wrong, and she didn't know if that was a bad thing or a good thing.

Mercer finally noticed that he was being watched and stiffly looked up to see Rebecca staring at him, guns in hand and mouth agape. He nodded as he coughed again, understanding her confusion. His action confused Rebecca even more; it was as if it was an act of surrender. They continued to share their gaze for a while, his blue predator-like eyes entrancing her, until Mercer's shifted to Rebecca's left.

It was a warning.

Rebecca quickly turned to see a group of Abstergo guards aiming. She reacted quickly and expertly shot the guards down, but not before taking a hit in the shoulder. It felt like something exploded in her, and she instantly went to grab the damaged area. She cried out in pain, but checked to see that the bullet had only grazed her. Through her shock, she was extremely grateful.

If Mercer hadn't warned her, Rebecca would have been dead.

Rebecca looked at Mercer again and nodded as thanks. He smirked and returned her nod before pointing to the right fork in the hallway. She didn't hesitate to sprint down the hallway that he had pointed at. Somehow, he knew what she was looking for.

She was injured now, and she needed to find Desmond quickly before their time was gone.

"What's taking so long?" Shaun finally asked. "You have two minutes left, probably less than that now that you fired your guns. If the alarms go off, you'll be trapped in the Detention Center without an exit."

"Sorry, ran into some trouble. A bullet grazed me, but I'm fine." Rebecca muttered as she sprinted down the hall, searching for the other assassin. "Where is Desmond?"

"Just a couple more cells down. The lock's code is 5FN1C3B." Shaun said in a clear voice. "Do you need me to repeat that?"

Rebecca shook her head. She heard it loud and clear.

Finally, she found Desmond. He was lying on his cot, looking as bored as hell. Rebecca couldn't help but roll her eyes at the thought; his life was in the hands of mad men and he was bored. Sometimes she didn't understand the new assassin. She quickly found the electronic lock's small keyboard and started to type in the code, each key making a beeping noise. The sound of the beeps caught Desmond's attention, and he practically jumped off the bed like a small child.

"Rebecca?" Desmond muttered in disbelief.

"Hey, Des, I'm busting you out." Rebecca said as the door unlocked. Desmond instantly stepped out of the cell, already tasting premature freedom. She pulled off her backpack and dug in it before pulling out Desmond's hidden blade and a spare pistol. "Here you're gonna need these."

Desmond thanked the woman and took his hidden blade and strapped it on without hesitating. He tested the weapon out, letting the blade slide out, and he looked content with the results. The two assassins started to move then, weapons ready. Rebecca knew where she was heading, so Desmond adamantly followed her and covered their backs.

"Where are we heading?" Desmond finally asked.

"Back where I came from. I passed an abandoned elevator shaft on the way here. That's our escape route. We just have to make it before the alarms go off." Rebecca stated as she sprinted down the hallway.

As if her words were bad luck, the bright white lights were turned off and were soon replaced with red flashing ones. An ear-splitting siren went off, signaling that they had been caught. Already, they could hear the faint steps of guards rushing towards their position.

"Shit, we're too late." Rebecca swore.

The two stopped where they were. There was no need to continue any further, they were trapped in this part of Abstergo. Without an escape route available, they were sitting ducks.

"We're trapped, Shaun. Any ideas?" Rebecca asked the assassins who were safely back in the hideout. They must have known that she had failed at this point, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The other line was silent as Shaun and Lucy tried to come up with something helpful.

"Um, how about don't die?" The Brit said, obviously stressed that things had turned for the worse. "Other than that, we can't help you."

"This is just fucking great." Desmond finally muttered.


	7. Bustin' Out

Alex didn't know how much time he had spent in the Bloodtox induced coma. But he knew it was long enough for him to wake up in a sterile, white cell that constantly dripped water on him and had a small stream of Bloodtox flowing through the air's ventilation system. Alex had grumbled when he first started to cough from the chemical, knowing that he was slowly being weakened. Whoever these people were, they had done some deep research into Gentek's or Blackwatch's highly classified files.

They knew how to keep the virus weak enough so he wouldn't be able to fight back. His extra biomass levels were dangerously low, and he didn't know how much longer he could last before he was diminished to a pile of primordial ooze. It was taking him all of his strength to keep his head up even now, and that scared him slightly. So, Alex was reduced to just sitting in the middle of a high-tech cell that seemed to be specifically designed to keep him at bay.

"_I wonder if this is how Greene felt after all those years." _Alex thought after sitting for a while. He tried, but failed, to ignore the droplets that would hit his head every second or so. With every drop, the virus screamed at him to leave this vile place. But he couldn't, he was trapped. _"No, she didn't have water dripping on her constantly. She didn't feel this shitty."_

It was as annoying as hell, not being able to do anything. Unbearable, too. Alex felt so weak and useless, like the humans he fed on.

"Well, you know what they say: you are what you eat." Alex muttered to himself, causing him to go into another coughing frenzy. He was trying to bring a brighter side to his situation, but failing horribly.

Alex spent at least an hour sulking in the drizzle, statuesque like, before his instincts had kicked in. Someone was watching him. Alex slowly looked up, only to see a woman staring at him in surprise. The woman was oddly dressed, as if she was here to rob a bank. The woman wore a pair of goggles and earphones on her head, her dark brown hair tied up into a messy ponytail. She had a small, light backpack on, and it looked like it was filled to the brim with gadgets and whatnots.

But what caught Alex's attention were the two guns in her hands. They looked small, but deadly and accurate. Both looked like they had been recently used. The other dead giveaway that she had fired those weapons was the small blood splatter that Alex could pick out on her black clothes.

Whoever this woman was, she was not with the men that captured Alex.

Alex nodded in acknowledgment, coughing slightly, knowing that the woman was surprised to see him here. That meant that she probably knew who he was, and very few know that. The woman seemed to be frozen in place with either fear of shock. Alex was positive now; this woman knew who he was. The two stared at each other, not knowing what the other was going to do. They shared their gaze for a second before something caught Alex's attention.

A group of armed guards was making their way to the woman, weapons ready. However, Alex's shift of his eyes was enough to give them away. The woman twisted around and didn't hesitate to let her trigger fingers happy. She looked like an expert, and Alex couldn't help but think of Cross a little.

The woman successfully killed the group of guards, only taking a bullet to the shoulder. She didn't look like she was that badly injured, but Alex knew that it would be enough to slow her down on whatever mission she was on. But still, she kept her confidence, and Alex had to respect that in a human. He had only seen that in a couple people. Like Desmond, the man he had fought.

Suddenly, he knew why she was here. It was a rescue mission.

The woman looked back at Alex, a little confused at why he would help her. But nonetheless, she nodded as gratitude. Alex couldn't help but smirk as she showed her thanks. Alex nodded back, and as a little gift, he decided to point her in the direction where he had seen the guards put Desmond. He didn't know why he was helping the woman, but he was for some odd reason.

The woman flashed him a smile of exhilaration before sprinting down the hall he had pointed to. They hadn't met before, but Alex already like this woman. She had a spark of curiosity and wouldn't hesitate to go looking for answers, even if that meant getting in trouble. It was sort of like himself, but not in an insane, murderous way.

Alex watched her disappear, and as soon as she was out of sight, he returned to sulking in the light drizzle. The virus was expecting to be stuck in the room forever, boredom killing him before the water or Bloodtox would. However, it wasn't long before the white lights that surrounded him were replaced with flashing red ones. And as that happened, the water system in the detention cell was shut off.

He looked up at the ceiling, shocked at first, and then relieved. Already, some of his strength was returning. Still, he didn't dare stand up, the Bloodtox was still weakening him and he didn't want to push his luck. But as he sat there, he wondered what could have caused such a sudden change in his cell?

As if on cue, the woman from earlier and Desmond ran passed his cell, looking very frantic. They had to stop to catch a breather and they didn't hesitate to ready their weapons. And they didn't notice that they were just twenty feet away from the virus and that he was well in hearing range.

"So, you just decided to bust me out, only to get both of us locked up." Desmond pointed out, clearly irritated at the situation. He frowned before raising his firearm and firing down the hallway. A small, stunted scream told Alex that the man had hit his target. "And most likely killed. Great job, Rebecca."

"Hey, you were the one that wanted to have a night off." The woman, Rebecca stated immaturely. She nudged Desmond in the gut as she reloaded her pistols. "It's not my fault that you were captured by Abstergo."

Abstergo. Alex made a mental note to research that name at a later date.

"Hey," Desmond started defensively. He didn't like Rebecca's smug tone of voice, especially in the situation that they were in. "None of that would have happened if Lucy and I didn't run into that Mercer creep. He's probably the reason why we were caught."

Alex couldn't help but smirk at the young man's ignorance. Desmond didn't have enough facts to start pointing fingers at people who could bite them off. Rebecca noticed that they were just in front of his cell and winked at the watching virus, catching him slightly off guard from her friendliness. She knew what he was thinking.

Scratch that; she wasn't like Cross, she was like Dana.

"Naw . . . I don't think it was him, Desmond." Rebecca stated before looking back at Desmond. Suddenly her eyes lit up as an idea sprouted in her head. Alex saw this and his curiosity grew. She quickly tightened her earphones as if she was listening to something very faint. "Hey Shaun, can you tell me the code that opens Cell 11-HU?"

"Why the hell do we need that?" Desmond asked, confused.

"Shut it, Desmond." Rebecca hushed the man as she listened. After a couple seconds, Rebecca nodded, pleased. "Thanks Shaun, I think I know a way out."

It didn't take long for Desmond to question her words. Something was off, and he just realized the familiar feeling. He spun around, finally taking in his surroundings. His eyes rested on Alex, and the virus watched as, once again, all the color in his face was drained. Just to add insult to injury, Alex smirked and stiffly waved at the man. The virus coughed a little bit before returning his gaze at the two humans.

"You can't be serious Rebecca. He almost killed me. Twice." Desmond stated, finally losing his temper. "And now you just want to let him out?"

"Well . . . yeah." Rebecca finally answered Desmond. She saw some guards and quickly pulled herself and Desmond out of their range of fire just as they started firing at them. They ducked behind the corner of Alex's cell, allowing them to still be in his hearing range. "Look at it this way: If he's in a holding cell, then why would he be working for Abstergo?"

"Probably because he's an insane fucker?" Desmond retorted, clearly irritated.

Alex couldn't take this anymore. Desmond was insulting him right in front of his face and it was really getting on his nerves. Alex stood up and walked towards the assassins, his eyes fierce and serious. The two humans didn't notice his advancement until he was just a couple feet away from them, just a glass panel separating them.

"I _can_ hear you. And yes, I am a bit insane. Alex finally muttered as he glared at Desmond. Desmond flinched at Alex's voice and couldn't make eye contact with the virus. Alex coughed as he crossed his arms. "But believe me; I had nothing to do with this. I don't even know who these people are. I want out just as much as you do."

Desmond turned to look at the virus accusingly. To Alex, the younger man looked liked a pouting toddler, and he couldn't help but roll his ice blue eyes. Alex couldn't believe that he had found something interesting in Desmond; he was just a naive kid running around with a knife on his arm.

"So what? We just let you out and that's it?" Desmond pointed out, now on a temperamental rage parade. Rebecca just rolled her eyes and tried to kill the armed guards who were still shooting at them. "We unlock the door and you leave us to die?"

"I'll make a deal with you." Alex finally stated. He coughed again as the Bloodtox level was raised after a couple minutes of arguing. His whole body was screaming at him to do anything possible to get out of the room. "You unlock this door and I'll make sure that the three of us walk out of this building. Even if that means killing every son of a bitch in here."

"Deal." Rebecca agreed before Desmond could put in another word. She walked over to the panel and started plugging in the code that Shaun had given her a while ago. Desmond started to protest, but Rebecca cut him off before he could even begin. "Look, Desmond, if you haven't noticed we're not in a good position here. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"She's a smart one, she is." Alex muttered, approving of her actions. Alex quickly glared at Desmond, who had continued to pout like a spoiled child. Desmond noticed that the virus was looking at him and softly grumbled something inaudible. "You could learn something from her."

Rebecca smirked a bit at Alex's remark, almost happy that she had gotten his approval. After a couple seconds, Alex's door slid open, and the virus quickly exited the room before the two could change their minds. Without hesitating, Alex took in a deep, Bloodtox free, breath of air before nodding as thanks. He left the two assassins behind as he turned around the corner, right in the line of fire from the remaining guards.

Alex was still very weak, and he needed biomass.

In front of the assassins' eyes, Alex transformed his entire right arm onto a tentacle-like whip. This also caught the guards' attentions and they finally decided that they weren't able to stand a chance against the man who had surpassed the military for several years. As a couple finally started to decide it wasn't worth it and started to run, Alex sprung into action.

Alex grabbed the nearest guard with his whip and quickly smacked him into the hallway's ceiling, then the tiled floor, and then back into the ceiling. The still living guard screamed in pain and terror as Alex flung the man into a nearby window. The window cracked under the force, but didn't break. It didn't take the man long to die from a snapped neck.

Alex returned his attention to the other remaining guards, who were frozen in shock from witnessing the virus in action. Alex sneered, his ice blue eyes gleaming with deadly lust, and he shot his whip arm forward, impaling a guard. Alex was still weak, and the Blacklight virus dragged his catch in, deciding to consume the poor man. As Desmond and Rebecca provided hesitant cover fire, Alex let his tentacles do their thing as they crept out of his body and ripped the man apart for nutrients.

"That's just sick." Alex heard Desmond mutter in a disgusted tone.

Suddenly, Alex felt rejuvenated. And just like all the other times, memories flooded through the virus. He dug through his newfound memories, looking for anything useful. Alex found something that looked promising and looked to see where Desmond and Rebecca were. The two assassins had tried to avoid Alex's disturbing act, but now that he was looking at them, they couldn't evade his gaze.

"Come on, I know where to go." Alex muttered. The two assassins didn't move at first, and it took Alex a second to realize that they didn't trust him when his hand was transformed. He rolled his eyes and quickly shifted his hand back to normal. Still, Rebecca and Desmond didn't move from their position, eyeing Alex carefully. Finally, Alex growled impatiently, "Are you coming or what?"

With that, Desmond huffed out a sigh and reloaded his gun. He glared at Alex before walking out of his cover with Rebecca. Once the virus was sure that the two were following him, he led them down the hallway. As if he was following an invisible map, Alex led the two assassins down the maze of hallways, brutally killing and consuming a couple guards along the way.

"So, how do you know where we're going?" Desmond asked as if he was trying to break the ice. He didn't like Alex's repulsive act of eating people, and he was really trying to keep his food in his stomach.

"Let's just say I have my ways." Alex muttered, stopping any further conversation on the subject.

Alex finally brought them to their destination, a locked stairway. Alex didn't hesitate to grab onto the locked handle and he practically ripped the object out of the metallic door. Actually, Alex practically ripped the door itself off of its hinges, and the door was only hanging by the bottom hinge.

Rebecca and Desmond took a step back when the virus displayed his power and watched in terrified amazement as he tossed the door aside like it was nothing but a piece of trash. Alex walked through the destroyed doorway and motioned the assassins to follow him, and after some hesitation, they did so.

"How high are we?" Alex asked Rebecca as he looked up and down the stairwell.

"We're on the 27th floor. This floor to the 23rd should be on lock down, according to our friends. After that, all the elevators should be open and operational." Rebecca told him after Shaun filled the woman in. "But that's where most of the guards probably are."

Alex nodded in agreement. He started the long descent down the stairs, quickly followed with Desmond. The men still harbored hostile feelings towards each other, but seemed to put their differences behind as they walked with each other like untrustworthy brothers. They heard a door below them bust open, and they instantly prepared for battle. Desmond flicked his hidden blade out and Alex's hands transformed into a pair of large claws.

"Here they come." Desmond stated out loud, raising his hidden blade up into an offensive position.

It didn't take long for the rush of Abstergo guards to reach them. This time, Desmond was the first to react as he stabbed the nearest guard in the chest and threw him over the railway. The dying man soon fell to his death, screaming the whole way there. Desmond didn't hesitate to attack a few others and fatally injure them as Rebecca covered him.

Alex let the man do his work as he jumped through the stairwell's hole and down a couple of flights to fight the men that were just entering the stairway. Alex was merciless in his attacks and he shredded the men to pieces, painting the walls an awful red color. The virus inside him squirmed with joy; it wanted, no, needed to taste the fresh blood. Alex couldn't repress the need and quickly consumed the man he was currently slashing apart.

"Alex?" Rebecca called for the man, as if to ask him if he was leaving them behind.

"Down here." Alex shouted up the stairwell, peering up to see that the two humans were looked down at him. "It's safe to come down."

Alex waited patiently as the assassins sprinted down the stairs. It didn't take them long to reach the virus and they quickly exited the stairwell, staring at the bloodstained walls. There weren't many guards, and Alex quickly deposed of the ones that were there, so the three looked around to find a safer escape than the stairwell. Alex quickly looked around for any hiding guards, his claws returning back to normal hands as he did so.

"So, where do we go from here?" Rebecca asked, looking at Alex as if he was the leader of this breakout.

Alex looked around his surroundings. The three had exited into an open hallway, which looked like a normal business floor complete with grey cubicles. Of course, there weren't any employees at this late at night, but that didn't mean that there weren't any guards using the cubicles as cover. There were large windows that opened down to the streets, and Alex peered down to see that they were still at least twenty stories high.

"Down." Was all Alex said.

"Down?" Desmond asked, confused.

Before Desmond could ask for an explanation, Alex's arm turned back into a deadly whip. Alex swiftly slammed his whip into a glass window, shattering it instantly. The assassins freaked out and ducked for cover, wondering if the man was turning against them.

Apparently, the glass on this floor wasn't as strong as the type up on the detention floor. As soon as the window shattered, the three were blasted with a cool, ruthless wind that burnt their faces.

Alex looked at Rebecca and Desmond and ran to them, picking them up with each arm. Desmond was going to resist but he couldn't get a word in when it felt like Alex was crushing the life out of them. Alex took a couple steps forward towards the window, and Desmond knew what the virus was planning. He was now utterly convinced that the man was insane.

"Hold on tight." Alex muttered as he jumped out of the window.

It was terrifying, but yet exhilarating for Desmond. He felt like he was back in the Animus performing the most dangerous leap of faith ever. But he didn't have any control over it, and he felt like his death was imminent. With no stack of hay around, he could only imagine his skeleton shattering on the cold asphalt.

But to Rebecca, this was the best thing since sliced bread. She had never experienced a leap of faith like Desmond, but she had spent most of her teenage years doing extreme sports. This was like a blast from the past, and she was enjoying it to the fullest.

It was only seconds later that they landed on the ground. The earth itself shook with the impact, and Desmond felt like his insides had been turned into liquid. It took him a minute to notice that Alex had formed a crater where he landed. All of this seemed surreal to him, and he once again questioned his own sanity.

Alex set both of them down as soon as they landed. Desmond bent forward as he tried to keep his food down. The three then stared at each other awkwardly. Alex stood casually, his shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets. Even in this casual pose, the man looked like a ruthless killer, a predator. They continued to stare at each other in silence before Rebecca remembered the danger that they were in.

"Thanks for the help, Alex." Rebecca stated as if she were addressing an old friend. "But we need to keep moving if we're going to escape. They'll probably have the whole building after us in a couple seconds."

Alex nodded, agreeing with the woman. Without a parting word, he turned around and started to walk away, saying nothing to them as he started to disappear down the street's shadows. The two assassins watched him vanish until he was barely visible. Alex quickly sprinted up a building once he was sure that he was at a safe distance away from whoever captured him.

Once on the roof, he gave one last parting glance at the building, remembering that it belonged to Abstergo. He forced himself to stop and think for a second. Abstergo had been prepared to take him in. They had Bloodtox in their possession for Christ's sake. And as far as Alex knew, Bloodtox had been banned a long time ago after the Outbreak. But they had it, and that meant that they knew about Gentek and what they did. They knew what few people did.

Abstergo knew about him.

And he had to find out why.

Even with his curiosity on Desmond deteriorating, he found himself wondering how the two humans fit in all of this. Hell, they knew more about Abstergo than he did.

That mean that they could tell him what he needed to know. They had information he needed. He was not going to lose them. No, not until he knew as much as they did.

With his mind made up, Alex turned around and headed back to Abstergo, where Rebecca and Desmond were most likely still trying to escape. He searched for them up on a rooftop until he finally caught sight of Desmond's white hoodie. The two were sprinting away from the building, but Desmond was easy to make out even in the dead of night.

Alex started to make his way to the two of them, where he would stalk them until he found out where they lived. But Alex's plan quickly changed when a car just in front of the two exploded into a large fireball, knocking the two of them off their feet. Alex watched in shock at the explosion; he hadn't expected it, and he knew that it could have killed the two humans easily.

Alex looked for Desmond and Rebecca hastily; if those two were dead, that meant that his searching would take a setback. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Desmond moving, a good if not obvious indication that he was still alive and kicking. After that, Alex quickly spotted Rebecca, who had been thrown back farther than Desmond had.

She was not moving.

Alex started to sprint.

* * *

Oh noes! That's not good, isn't it? Sorry for the late update, I just happened to find my schedule for the past week to be extremely busy, but now I'm back and will try to write/update even faster. But I just have to say that this and the next couple upcoming chapters were the most favorite ones to write, and I can't wait to upload them, but it'll be in a couple days. Sorry.


	8. Kabloom

"Thanks for the help, Alex." Rebecca stated as if she were addressing an old friend. "But we need to keep moving if we're going to escape."

Alex nodded, agreeing with the woman. He turned around and started to walk away, saying nothing as he started to disappear down the street's shadows. The two assassins watched him disappear for a few seconds before sprinting away in the opposite direction, hoping to clear some distance between them and Abstergo Industries. They sprinted down the road in complete silence.

"Did we just make an ally?" Rebecca finally asked after a couple minutes of running.

Desmond shook his head. "No. But I think we just lost an enemy."

"Well, I guess that's better than nothing." Rebecca chuckled. Suddenly, something rumbled and the assassins felt it run through their legs. Both of the assassins were forced to pause in their escape. "Hey, did you feel that?"

"Yeah," Desmond said, nodding his head stiffly, "It didn't sound like good news."

As if on cue, a car exploded twenty feet in front of them, knocking both down hard. Desmond had trouble finding his breath; the wind had been knocked out of him. It took him a while for his senses to start functioning again, but when they did, they were mostly telling him that he was in pain. A lot of pain.

He touched his head and he pulled his hand back after a sting of pain shot through him. He had just felt a huge gash going from his right temple to the tip of his head. His bad side started to feel dreadful again, and then he knew whatever progress he had made from his first fight with Alex had just been metaphorically thrown out the window. Desmond was also bleeding somewhere else, but he couldn't find where.

"Rebecca?" Desmond called out for the assassin, but she didn't answer. His voice sounded faint and far away, and then he noticed that his ears were ringing. His hearing had been somewhat damaged. But that wasn't important at the moment; he couldn't see where Rebecca was and panicked. "Rebecca?"

Desmond slowly and painfully got on all fours, despite the amount glass on the cold asphalt, and started to crawl around. His knees were shielded by his jeans, but his hands started to bleed as shards of glass embedded into his flesh, and he resisted the urge to give up and cry out in pain. Still, Desmond desperately searched for the girl on the street, but Rebecca was nowhere to be found.

He edged away from the explosion, but the damage from it had affected the whole street. Glass from the store's windows had been shattered, car alarms were going off, and even the occasional dog was barking. Desmond was even sure he heard a police siren from off in the distance, but that could have been from his ears.

Smoke started to cover the street, and soon he couldn't see that far in front of him. The smoke entered his nostrils, making him cough and hack. The smell of the smoke burned him from the inside and it started to cloud his senses. His panicked thoughts started to become foggy and hazy. Desmond almost forgot why and what he was searching for.

"Rebecca?" Desmond tried to stifle out, but ended up chocking before he finished her name.

His movements started to slow down, and he was really tempted to just give in and succumb to a pain filled, smoky death. Finally, after a couple seconds of realizing how bad of a shape he was in, Desmond slumped over to his side, right into more glass, and started to wheeze from smoke poisoning.

Just before he slipped into a deadly unconsciousness, a figure materialized out of the smoke. Desmond gazed up at the figure before realizing that it was Alex, and he looked unaffected by the smoke. He glared down at the assassin, his face the same scowl that had been haunting Desmond's dreams for almost a week now.

And Alex just stood there, not doing anything.

Desmond's brain was quick to churn out some smoke affected logic. Alex was here, watching him die from inhaling so much smoke. Alex's been known to do anything to get what he wants. Alex wanted to get out of Abstergo. Alex had promised to help Rebecca and him out if they freed him. Alex said that he would protect them on their way out. But Alex didn't say anything about attacking them once they were freed.

"You." Desmond spat as he tried to remain conscious. "You did this. You're trying to kill me and Rebecca. You bast—"

"Shut it." Alex said, his voice low and still intimidating. "If I wanted you dead, I would've done it the night we first met. Now get up."

Before Desmond could react, Alex reached down and picked Desmond up on his feet as if he was nothing. Alex quickly checked to see if the assassin could stand on his own, but found out that he couldn't. Alex swore as Desmond started to fall back and was forced to catch him. The assassin unintelligibly grabbed onto the virus's shoulder and clung on like it was his anchor. Alex realized that Desmond would have to use him as support, something that he wasn't particularly enthused about.

"Where's Rebecca?" Desmond asked, hoping that Alex would know where she is.

Alex didn't answer the assassin. Instead, Alex helped Desmond walk towards a destroyed hair salon. Desmond didn't question the man at first; his brain was still heavily clouded with smoke. But after a while, Desmond glanced up at Alex for answers. He received none.

As they made their way to the salon, Desmond could pick out his battered friend that was lying against the store's wall. Rebecca's clothes seemed to have been torn from the shrapnel from the explosion. Her arms and face had been heavily cut up from glass and who knows what else. Rebecca's right leg was in a wrong position, having been broken when she hit the building. And she was in a pool of her own blood.

"We gotta do something, now!" Desmond asked, starting to choke again.

Alex nodded and quickly scooped up the dying girl in his arms. He made sure that she was secure before he headed away from the smoke covered street and into an alley. Desmond had trouble keeping up with Alex's fast pace but he clung onto the man's shoulder. Alex noticed his difficulty and grumbled.

"Grab me around my shoulders." Alex barked out the order.

Desmond stopped for a second, confused at Alex's command. Why would he need to grab onto his shoulders? That was a bit too close for comfort for the assassin. The thought of wrapping his arms around the man sent shivers down his spine. Actually, just clinging onto Alex for support was enough to get Desmond's skin crawling. And now Alex was ordering Desmond to basically _hug_ him.

"Um . . ." Desmond muttered as he took a half step away from the virus. The sirens were growing louder, signaling that they didn't have much time left. "I . . . uh . . ."

Alex finally caught onto Desmond's hesitation. He growled something to himself that Desmond couldn't catch. Alex gave the assassin a stiff glare and watched him decide whether or not to follow his order. Alex watched as Desmond, his face full of worry and shock, switched his gaze to Rebecca. She was still dying in the virus's arms, and the more time Desmond spent thinking, the shorter time they had to save her.

Finally, Desmond complied and put his arms around Alex's neck and grabbed a hold onto his own hands, forming a link. If anyone saw this, they could have clearly seen the antagonism between the two men, but they wouldn't have cared. It was truly a ridiculous sight, and Desmond knew this.

But Alex didn't mind. He didn't falter to start sprinting up the building at incredible speeds. The assassin began to feel weightless as he watched the ground disappear from under his feet. He became vertical as Alex continued the long ascent to the building's roof top. Desmond was startled at first, and he almost lost his grip. This was too much, and Desmond could only revert to a small child as he screamed his head off.

"This is fuckin' impossible!" Desmond screeched at the top of his lungs. "None of this is possible!"

Alex suppressed the urge to tell Desmond to shut the hell up before someone notices that they were practically running vertically up a building. But instead, Alex just smirked to himself. Desmond was truly terrified of him, Alex knew that, but he only just realized how much fun he could have with the man after this ordeal. Hey, he made up his mind to stick around the guys until he knew everything, and scaring Desmond would just add some amusement for him.

They reached the top of the roof a couple seconds later, but Alex didn't stop there. Rather, he continued the sprint on the roof until he reached the end. Desmond, who was still scared out of his wits, noticed this and prepared himself when Alex would stop at the edge of the building. Only, Alex didn't stop at the edge of the building. Alex jumped expertly off of the roof and onto the next one across the street. He didn't even pause as he kept up his pace.

They kept heading north, up away from the tip of Manhattan where police sirens and fire trucks were feverishly heading towards the site of the explosion. Desmond closed his eyes whenever Alex jumped between buildings, and only opened them when he felt the building shake under them when they landed. However, Desmond did listen as the sharp winds around them finally started carry the sirens away.

Alex and Desmond continued their escape in silence. Desmond was still trying to keep his nerves under control, and Alex was thoroughly enjoying his nighttime run. He couldn't remember the last daring escape he made after the Outbreak. The danger made him feel like he was filled with adrenaline, most likely caused by the instincts he formed back during the Outbreak when he heard sirens.

After a couple minutes of continuous running, Desmond dared to get a good look at his surroundings. Alex had made quite some ground, as they were currently right in the middle of a usually busy Times Square. Desmond looked down to see the streets muddled with people, tourists, as they all tried to take in the city lights. However, the lights blinded him, and he instinctively unlatched his hands to cover up his eyes.

That was a stupid move on his part.

Because he let go to cover his eyes, he foolishly let go of Alex. Now he found himself starting to feel gravity's affections on him. And just like Isaac Newton found out with apples, Desmond found himself starting to plummet towards the tourist filled streets. As if by instinct, Desmond tried to find a way to survive this through scenarios Ezio and Altair went through. But this wasn't a Leap of Faith, and there was no bale of hay to cushion his fall.

"_Oh god, this is it."_ Desmond thought. _"I'm dead."_

Desmond was losing it when all of a sudden he was jerked back upwards. As soon as that happened, he felt something bind him around the waist until he felt like his lungs were being squeezed out of his body. He looked down to see a pair of black tentacles wrap themselves around his torso. They wriggled for a second before settling down. Desmond looked up to see that Alex was on the other side of the street, glaring at him as he pulled him back up.

"What part of grab onto my shoulders do you not understand?" Alex seethed as he set Desmond down on the roof. The assassin waited for Alex to loosen his grip, but instead, it felt like the man's tentacles tightened their grip as Alex's patience was tested.

Desmond lost it there.

"How about at the part when you fucking ran up a fucking building?" Desmond exclaimed, his face turning beet red. His initial anger surprised the virus; he hadn't expected someone as scared of him as Desmond to start shouting at him. Apparently Desmond was a bit braver than Alex realized, or at least a bit crazier. But Desmond didn't stop there. "Or the part where you jumped fifty feet between buildings? That might've confused me a bit, wouldn't it, asshole?"

For the second time this week, Alex was at a loss for words. He was too startled by Desmond's spontaneous burst of rage to retort anything. He felt like he had been put in place, and he didn't like that feeling at all. He could kill Desmond right now; all he had to do was squeeze him with a tentacle or two. But he wouldn't do it. Desmond's fury had sparked not only a newfound interest in him, but some respect as well.

". . . We need to keep moving." Alex finally muttered.

And with that, Alex started to sprint back up north towards the West Side. He didn't even bother letting go of Desmond with his tentacles. He knew Desmond didn't like the sight them, and he thought that that was enough of a punishment for letting go of him.

About ten minutes later, the three finally stopped when they reached a condemned apartment building up near Harlem. The building was scheduled to be demolished in a couple weeks, so no one was around to notice them breaking and entering. They went through a window on the fourth floor and walked up a couple flights of stairs until Alex decided which room would have the most cover for them.

"This'll protect us in case anyone was following us." Alex muttered as he kicked a door to an apartment open, breaking the door off of its hinges. The door flew back a couple feet until it clattered against the old floor. Alex didn't mean to do that and avoided Desmond's still furious glare. "I'll, um, fix that later."

The two men entered the apartment, only partially noticing the nauseous smell of the room. They quickly put Rebecca down on a dust covered couch that the previous owner was too lazy to take with him before moving. She had lost a lot of blood, but Alex had been quick to apply pressure to her wounds when he first picked her up. Now he kept a tentacle wrapped around her injuries to stop the bleeding.

Desmond, who was not only furious but close to death himself, didn't hesitate to lie down on the dirty floor to retire for the night. It was cold and covered in dust, but it didn't matter to Desmond; all he needed was someone trying not to kill him and he would be happy. He was close to succumbing to sleep when Alex nudged him with his feet. Desmond opened his and glared at Alex, who was ripping up shreds of the apartment's old curtains.

"Stay awake. You need to keep an eye out while I'm treating her wounds." Alex ordered the exhausted assassin. "You're next after her."

The assassin let out a groan as a complaint and forced himself back up to a standing position. He stiffly walked to a window that looked down on the street below. Desmond leaned against the wall and fixated his gaze to the entrance of the building. A couple cars passed, but nothing really exciting happened at first.

The two men sat there in silence, the only sound coming from Alex as he dressed Rebecca's largest wound: a piece of shrapnel in her leg. That was where the blood had been coming from, and it wasn't as serious as it looked. Alex expertly dug the shrapnel out and applied enough pressure to stop the bleeding as he wrapped her leg up with the makeshift gauze.

"How is she?" Desmond faintly asked.

He had trouble keeping his eyes off of Alex as he worked over his friend. He was such a powerful, merciless killer, but he tended to Rebecca as if he was petting a soft kitten. It was a dramatic change of character, and Desmond had to remind himself that it was the same person that could turn his arm into a blade.

Alex looked up from his work and stared at Desmond, his eyes just a tad softer than his usual glare.

"She'll live, but you'll need to take her to the hospital to fix that leg of hers. Thankfully the amount of pain she's in will keep her out for at least a day." Alex said as he went back to continue his work. "Other than the shrapnel in her broken leg, just a couple bullets grazed her and some other cuts."

". . . That's great." Desmond finally muttered. "You a doctor or something?"

"Sort of." Alex answered after a pause. "Not the kind that you're thinking about. But I know enough from memory to treat simple breaks and cuts."

Desmond thought for a second and then nodded. He returned his gaze back to the street, which was finally quiet after a tough day. Desmond wondered what time it was. It certainly wasn't the same day that Alex and he had their second encounter at the deserted bar. Man, that half hour in that bar felt like ages ago, not hours. It was like they were two different people now. They were people that still weren't comfortable, but they now had some amount of respect for the other.

It was strange.

Desmond started to doze off after a while. Soon, he found himself in shallow sleep, as if his brain was resting while his body was not. He must have been out for only half an hour before someone pulled him out of his doze .He looked up to see Alex looking down on him. It was a little creepy, but after being stared down by Vidic while he was a prisoner at Abstergo, it didn't really frighten him.

"What?" Desmond asked groggily.

"You're next, remember?" Alex stated as if it was obvious. "We need to get your wounds cleaned up before they get infected."

The assassin nodded and forced himself off of the wall. Alex led him into the apartment's small, secluded kitchen and to a pair of old chairs that looked like they would fall apart as soon as they sat on them. Desmond tested the chair out by hesitantly sitting on it, not really trusting them at first. But once he was content with the results, he relaxed in the chair as it creaked. Alex took the other one and stared at Desmond for a second.

Awkward silenced ensued.

"Give me your hands." Alex finally ordered in a growl, breaking the silence.

Desmond obliged and stuck his hands out at the man, finally remembering that they had small shards of glass in them. His hands looked raw and bloody, and Desmond could faintly see Alex flinch at the sight. Faintly. Alex looked like he didn't know where to start, there was so much glass. But that didn't stop him.

Slowly, Alex's left hand transformed into his large, metallic looking claw. The sight of it, the same weapon that had shredded people apart, startled Desmond. He instinctively tried to pull his hand away, but Alex kept a firm grip of it in his untransformed hand. Alex noticed Desmond's fear and tightened his grip even further.

"Relax, how else am I going to get the glass out of your flesh?" Alex asked in a low voice.

Desmond didn't have an answer for him. Alex nodded his head as if he agreed with him and started to carefully pick out shards of glass from all sizes. It was tedious work, and Alex tired to ignore each flinch Desmond made when he pulled out a shard. Finally, one hand was done, and Alex quickly wrapped up it with the strips of curtain before starting his other hand.

Desmond seemed to settle down after a while at the sight of Alex's claws; he even acted as if it was normal. Alex appreciated it and was then quickly fixated on Desmond's other hand. Desmond started to take in the patterns of the claw and then noticed that, like the blade in the alley where they met, it was warm with heat and pulsated with a heartbeat. The claw was actually a part of Alex.

"Why are you helping us?" Desmond suddenly asked, catching Alex off guard. Alex didn't respond at first, so Desmond just asked again. "Seriously, why the hell are you?"

"Because, you helped me get out of that Abstergo place." Alex stated matter of factly. Alex wasn't technically lying. That was part of the reason why, and he hoped Desmond would be satisfied with that as an answer.

"Bullshit." Apparently it wasn't. Desmond looked straight into Alex's ice blue eyes, not even flinching when Alex returned the stair. Fierce blue against muddy brown. Alex paused from picking glass out of Desmond's hand, giving the assassin his full attention. "What else, why?"

Alex sighed. "Because those guys back there know about what I am, and you know about them."

It didn't take Desmond long to understand what Alex wanted. He nodded, "So you're going to ask me some stuff."

Alex nodded, and then returned back to picking the glass out of Desmond's hands. Desmond waited for any indication to start, but Alex didn't give him any. Alex was listening, but his eyes were on Desmond's bloody hand.

"Okay, shoot." Desmond finally muttered.


	9. Past Tensions

"Okay, who the hell are you guys?" Alex asked after Desmond said he was ready.

Desmond knew that this would be one of the first things that he'd ask. And Desmond was sure that if he answered it, he'd be past the point of no return. If he answered, would Alex see him as a threat and kill him right there? Most likely. If he answered he would break the third tenet of the Creed, and if he ever saw Shaun again, he would surly blow a gasket.

Never compromise the Brotherhood.

But that was exactly what he was doing.

"I—we're assassins. We're a part of a secret organization that's tasked itself to protect the free will of humanity against the Templars, who are our sworn enemies. We kill the few to save many." Desmond said as he avoided Alex's curious gaze. "It formed since the dawn of time, and my family line has been in the Assassin Order at least since the Crusades. That's the basic gist of it."

Desmond waited for the next question, but Alex took his time as he absorbed this information. He didn't know if he should believe Desmond's story or declare the man a lunatic. But then he remembered the small blade that Desmond stabbed him with, and he looked down at the assassin's hand to see the weapon still there. Desmond noticed Alex staring at his hidden blade and pulled it up for the man to get a better look.

"This is the trade mark weapon of an assassin. I just recently got mine." Desmond muttered as he flicked the hidden blade out. Alex observed the weapon. His eyes flashed with interest and looked at the hidden blade through the small amount of light in the apartment. "But they're usually only given to master assassins."

"And you are . . ?"

"I'm still in training." Desmond muttered. He flicked his hidden blade back into place and surrendered his hand back to Alex. Alex took his hand and continued his work with his claw, but not before glancing at Rebecca to see if she was alright.

"In training?" Alex stated like a question. Alex smirked at the word.

Desmond's face turned a slight red as embarrassment overtook him.

"Yeah . . . in training." Desmond's thoughts trailed off to the Animus.

He had spent the last couple months in the Animus, and the effects had been slowly building up. And when he was taken back to Abstergo, it sort of started a domino effect when he was brought back into a familiar environment. Instincts he only had in the Animus were starting to find their way into his system.

He felt light headed; he faintly heard his ancestor's voices as he grew more tired. He had already seen a ghost from the Renaissance a couple minutes ago, but had managed to ignore it.

"I'm still a novice." Desmond softly muttered. The word novice flittered across his mind. And in Malik's voice too; the other assassin's voice screamed the word at him mentally, and he slightly flinched.

Alex remained silent for a second. He looked like he was deep in thought, and Desmond didn't want to break the man's concentration. While Alex was thinking, Desmond inspected the work on his remaining hand. Alex's claw had managed to get most of the glass out of his palms, but there was still a few shards left to be plucked out. Alex's claw hovered from his work while he thought, but he was soon brought back to reality and started his work again.

"And what does Abstergo have to do with this?" Alex muttered quietly; Desmond almost didn't catch it.

"Abstergo?" Desmond snorted at the name. "Those are our enemies, the Templars. They just changed to a more publicly accepted name. They're a huge industry, if you didn't notice, but as you saw, they deal with pretty dirty business behind closed doors. They use their—"

"And what do they want with me?" Alex abruptly asked, looking up at Desmond.

"Well . . ." Desmond started, his face turning red again from embarrassment. "My friends and I originally thought that Abstergo hired Gentek to come up with something, hell I don't know, that could wipe out the Assassin Order with relative ease. And after you almost killing me, not to mention some research on you, we thought that you were made to take us ou—"

"You're wrong." Alex said, interrupting the Assassin. "That's not why I am what I am."

"Care to enlighten?" Desmond asked, his own curiosity getting the better of him.

Alex sighed and looked at his finished work. Desmond's hand was clean of glass, even if it looked even bloodier than before. Alex's claw transformed back into a hand and he started to wrap up the assassin's hand with the curtains. Once he was done with that, Alex went to fix the gash that was on Desmond's forehead.

"Let's just say that Gentek hired me to make a deadly virus ten times deadlier." Alex said bluntly. "I succeeded, and something went wrong. Now I'm a freak of nature."

Desmond took in Alex's very vague answer and nodded, but stopped when Alex tried to keep his head still. He had forgotten about the gash up there, and impatiently kept still as Alex wrapped the remaining strips of curtain around Desmond's head before tucking in the loose strip tight.

"Well then, the only other reason that I can think of is that they think you're a descendant of either an assassin or a Templar." Desmond said, deciding to leave the topic on Alex's dark origins. "That means that they either wanted to kill you or recruit you. You'd be a very powerful ally, or an extremely dangerous enemy."

Alex shook his head stiffly and let out a deep sigh. "I don't think I'm either of those."

"I don't know, then." Desmond stated.

The two men then continued their question and answer conversation. Topics ranged from personal questions like Desmond's early life on the Farm, to how he got his scar on his lips, and then to what he did before he was recruited to be an assassin. Desmond did manage to evade any topics that would lead to the Animus; he didn't trust Alex enough to tell him about his deepest secrets. And because of that, he avoided any subject about his ancestors, which was relatively easy because Alex didn't know _to_ ask about his ancestors.

It was still awkward at first, but Desmond seemed to relax a bit more as his exhaustion grew. His judgment was almost gone, and he seemed very giddy with the virus. Alex soon noticed that the assassin was about to pass out, and shook him awake to get his attention.

"I've kept you up. You need some sleep, even if it's a couple hours worth." Alex ordered. "I'll keep an eye out while you two rest."

Desmond just loosely nodded, his drowsy eyes half open, and then crawled out of his chair and onto the floor. He tried to make his way to the couch, where Rebecca was still unconscious from her injuries, but he only made it halfway before he slumped over into an awkward position. Alex kept his eyes on the younger man until he heard soft snores escaping him.

Alex couldn't help but ominously chuckle at the sound. He couldn't remember the last time he had fallen asleep, just one of the perks about being the Blacklight Virus he guessed. But from what Dana said before she had fallen into a coma, he had sounded like a train himself when he was younger.

_Dana . . ._

His thoughts were then confined to Dana and the idea of her finally waking up. Alex smiled softly at the thought; his sister with him again. Would she still love him? He hoped that she would, even after all the terrible stuff he did during the Outbreak. Alex wouldn't know what he would do if she woke up and didn't accept him.

Alex continued to think of his younger sister for almost an hour when all of a sudden Desmond started to murmur something in his sleep. He looked at Desmond for a quick moment before returning back to his somewhat happy thoughts. But as time passed, Desmond's murmurings quickly turned into audible words, despite Alex's hoping that he would stop.

"_Malik."_ Desmond sharply said in his sleep, catching Alex's attention once again. Alex looked at the young man, and saw that he was frowning in his sleep.

What was a Malik? It didn't sound like an English word, but it was a word. Was it a name? If it was, it wasn't a name Alex heard of, even in the vast memories of the virus's victims. However, Desmond seemed to know what, or who, he was talking about, because he started speaking in complete sentences that contained the word Malik multiple times.

Desmond sure as hell wasn't speaking English, Alex was positive on that. Because of all of the memories Alex had, he could differentiate English from several other languages, but this one was completely foreign to him. He watched as Desmond quickly became restless and started tossing and turning around the old wooden floor. Desmond was dreaming, and Alex had no clue what it was about.

Desmond's voice soon raised in volume as he grew visibly angrier. He words soon became a crackling whip, and Alex felt almost sorry for whoever Desmond was dreaming about. But as the seconds ticked by, Alex realized that at this volume, someone was bound to hear them and investigate. Alex stood up when he decided that it would be a smart idea to wake him up before that happened.

He walked over and crouched next to Desmond. He started to shake Desmond's shoulder lightly, hoping to stop the man from shouting at the top of his lungs. He wasn't successful, so Alex started to shake the man harder.

"Desmond, shut up. You're going to wake up the whole neighborhood." Alex said, trying to arouse the man into consciousness. Desmond didn't respond, so Alex continued with a threat. "I'll stuff your mouth with the last of the curtains if I have to."

With those words, Desmond finally regained consciousness. His eyes instantly opened and they glared at Alex as if to say 'how dare you disturb me'. He growled at Alex, catching the virus slightly off guard by his initial hostility. Without any warning, Desmond quickly kicked Alex in the chest, surprising the virus even more. He took a half step back in his confusion, giving Desmond an opening.

Desmond jumped up and went in to tackle Alex. Alex was quick enough to dodge the attack now that he realized that Desmond was in the offensive. Desmond took this expertly, and unlike their fight in the alley, he jumped over Alex, using his back as a slide. As soon as Desmond was back on solid ground, he quickly stabbed Alex in the side with his now ready hidden blade.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you _want_ to die?" Alex yelled at Desmond and he pulled the hidden blade out of his side. It didn't hurt him at all, but he was still confused on why Desmond was attacking him so viciously. It was like this wasn't even Desmond in front of him. "I thought we were done with this?"

Apparently, they weren't. Desmond went in to attack a second time. This time, the assassin headed for Alex's chest with his blade. Alex quickly caught it before it entered his flesh, but that seemed to be what Desmond wanted. Without further warning, Desmond spun around and kicked Alex in the side, making the virus lose his grip on his hidden blade. Desmond took this as the opportunity to stab Alex again, but this time in his left shoulder, which took a chunk out of him.

Alex swatted Desmond's weapon away and allowed for his biomass to fix the now gaping hole in his left shoulder. Desmond watched in awe and then muttered something Alex didn't understand, but the assassin wasn't daunted enough to stop his attack. He said something again in the foreign language before smacking Alex with one of his injured hands. Desmond winced as he caused pain to himself, but he tried not to show it further.

"Now I'm convinced; you have a death wish." Alex spat.

Desmond answered him in the foreign tongue before trying to take Alex out by knocking him off of his feet. Alex stumbled to the ground, and to add insult to injury, Desmond spat at Alex, hitting him square on the right cheek. And then Alex realized that Desmond now had more skill than their first fight. Alex smirked; this meant that he didn't have to go as easy on the poor man.

"That's it." Alex finally growled, his eyes reddening slightly with anger. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

Tentacles shot out of Alex's body and quickly pinned Desmond down on a nearby wall. Alex got up and made sure that his tentacles were keeping the insane assassin at bay. Desmond flustered as he tried to escape from the mass of black and red tentacles, and soon became a feral animal trapped in a cage. He growled and roared as he tried to break free, but the tentacles kept him fastened against the wall.

"What sorcery is this?" Desmond finally muttered in English, but it was hitched and in a heavy accent. He soon returned to the foreign language before glaring at Alex with intense hatred.

"Did you lose your fucking mind or something? I thought we came to an understanding. " Alex asked as he inspected Desmond as he continued to squirm.

Desmond continued to lash out at the virus, but this time with harsh words. Even cornered, Desmond was acting like a lunatic, and Alex had no idea why. Alex didn't need to know the language to know that Desmond was insulting him. However, he was sure that he heard the younger man say Templar at least once or twice.

"Didn't we go over this? I'm not a fucking Templar. I didn't even know about them a couple of hours ago." Alex pointed out, ignoring the apparent language barrier. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Desmond stopped squirming around and glared at Alex. His eyes were golden, but as cold as ice, and it almost sent shivers down Alex's spine. They looked like they knew more than they gave off, and Alex couldn't avoid Desmond's stare.

Wait a minute.

Desmond had brown eyes before he went to sleep. Now he had fierce golden eyes and acted like a loose cannon. Alex studied this, and seriously began to question if this was the same person that he had helped escape from Abstergo. It sounded like ludicrous, but unless Desmond had contracted rabies in the past few hours, it was the only explanation for his weird behavior.

Alex took another step closer towards Desmond. "Are you even Desmond?"

Desmond let out a growl and started spewing out words again. He spoke too fast for Alex to get any idea what he was talking about. The only word he caught was the last one.

"Altaїr?" Alex repeated the word. This got Desmond's attention, and the assassin muttered something at Alex. He looked murderous at that word, and Alex realized that that must have also been a name. "Am I speaking to Altaїr?"

Desmond just glared at Alex, and then the virus knew that he had been correct. Alex tightened his tentacles' grip on Desmond and looked up and down the assassin. While he did so, Alex noticed that Desmond was starting to have an epileptic seizure. His whole body was shaking, and Alex had no idea why. Desmond started moaning in pain before his whole body went limp.

Alex waited for a second, watching to see if Desmond would foolishly attack him again. But Desmond looked winded, and he had trouble keeping his breathing rate steady. Desmond started to moan, and Alex kept a wary eye on the assassin. Alex watched as Desmond came to and forced his own eyes open to look at his surroundings.

His eyes were brown again.

"What the hell happened?" Desmond muttered, sounding very confused. He noticed that Alex had pinned him against the apartment's wall with his tentacles, and he didn't look too happy to see that. Desmond hated the sight of Alex's tentacles. "And why the fuck are you restraining me?"

"You attacked me again." Alex stated, realizing that Desmond was back and whoever Altaїr is was long gone. Desmond gave Alex a startled, confused look, obviously having no recollection of the past few minutes. Alex thought for a second before finally releasing Desmond, who shuddered at the sight of the tentacles retreating back into the other's body. "You tried to kill me. Your eyes were a different color than they are now. And you weren't speaking English."

Desmond looked up at Alex at the last revelation. Alex raised an eyebrow, taking note that Desmond had a feeling that he knew what he was talking about. He waited patiently for Desmond to give him some answers, taking a seat in the kitchen and motioning for Desmond to join him. The assassin groaned and trudged into the kitchen, not particular excited to have this conversation with Alex.

"Explain." Alex forcefully ordered. "Now."

"I can't tell you much, but," Desmond added before Alex could object. The assassin paused as he tried to find the right words, "let's just say I have a severe case of multiple personality disorder. And that I have no control over my other personalities."

"So I just met one of your other personalities?" Alex sounded unconvinced.

Desmond stiffly nodded as he avoided Alex's never ending stare, which still had a faint tint of red. "Yeah, I have three. There's me, the one you know, the normal one. I have another personality that's, um, what you could call a ladies' man? Yeah, that sounds about right. And my last one is . . . a little bit temperamental sometimes."

"Temperamental as in trying to kill anything that moves?" Alex pointed out, a smirk finding its way on his face.

Desmond forced out a weak chuckle before rubbing the top of his head fiercely. He still looked tired, but Alex wasn't sure he wanted the man to fall back asleep, just not yet at least. Desmond thought for a second before answering, relishing in the silence as Alex continued to wait.

"Yeah, he's got some anger issues to work out. I've been lucky that he hasn't surfaced in a while, and I'm pretty thankful that he took over me around you." Desmond muttered. He realized how bad that sounded, and quickly tried to recover from his blunder. "I mean, he would have probably tried to kill Rebecca or one of my other friends. At least you can't really die from stab wounds."

Alex nodded. "I think he said his name was Altaїr."

"That's his name, and I'm forced to live with him inside my head. Even when he's not . . . being me, I can still hear his thoughts sometimes, and I'm starting to go insane because of it."

The virus could understand where Desmond was coming from. He had thousands of memories in his head; almost all of them were not his. He could hear each of his victim's voices, and if he didn't constantly try to repress them, they would have completely taken over him, leaving him a broken heap. He would have lost whatever small amount of his mind that he still had. Desmond must've had similar problems.

A car horn went off, and Desmond jumped. The two looked at the apartment's sole window, noticing that the night was ending and the early birds of New York City were already on the move. Now that they were paying close attention, they could even hear a couple footsteps and a young woman already talking on her cell phone.

"We need to get back to our friends." Desmond muttered as he looked back at Rebecca, who was still asleep. "They're probably freaking out, and they aren't going to like the idea of Rebecca having a broken leg."

Alex let out a deep sigh and sat up. He walked over towards Rebecca and bent down to carefully scoop her up. She still looked at peace, even in Alex's arms. The arms of a monster. He slowly walked to the door of the apartment, but stopped at the doorway and looked at Desmond expectantly as if to ask him why he wasn't moving already.

"What?" Desmond asked.

"Get up. I'm taking you two back to your safe house." Alex bluntly stated. "If it's one thing that I've noticed, it's that you guys are like a magnet for bad luck."

"So what? You think that the other assassins are going to be okay that you just show up with Rebecca in your arms. No, they won't." Desmond pointed out. "They're going to flip shit. Strike first, ask questions later, that's what assassins usually do."

Alex looked at Desmond, easily suppressing the urge to snort at the man. Awkward silence ensued.

"I was obliterated by a nuclear missile, Desmond. I think I can take care of myself around a couple of furious assassins when I drop you two off."


	10. Homecoming

It didn't take them long to reach the assassins' safe house. Despite much grumbling from Desmond, they had decided the quickest and safest route was on rooftop while it was still somewhat dark out. Thankfully, Alex had agreed that he wouldn't strap Desmond in with his tentacles if he kept a tight hold of him. Desmond didn't even argue, but rather just grabbed onto his shoulders without any hesitation. He did not want a repeat of last night.

The assassin safe house was on the other side of Central Park, and since they didn't want to raise attention, they took the longer route around the Park's exterior instead of cutting through it. Early morning joggers were probably just starting their routes, and Alex didn't want anyone to see him sprinting or gliding at high speeds while carrying a person in his hands and another person holding onto him for dear life.

In the end, it was a scenic run, and Desmond enjoyed the sights as they sped by The green buds on the hundreds of trees seemed to bring new life to Desmond. However, it wasn't long before they were encased in the city again with larger buildings looming over them. The young green of Central Park disappeared, and soon the two found themselves staring at industrialized grey. It grew boring after a while, and Desmond's paranoia of being dropped bubbled up again without the distraction of the Park.

Finally, Alex decided to drop to the ground once they were a couple blocks away. They landed in a shadowed alley, where Desmond quickly recollected himself while Alex waited impatiently. Once his brain realized that he was back on solid ground, Desmond took point and led Alex to the safe house. The assassin looked up at the building, seeing that the lights were still on, expecting the worst when they would enter the floor that they were squatting in.

"Are you sure that I can't take over?" Desmond asked as he unlatched the gate that protected the front door. "I can take Rebecca up by myself. And, you know, you could just leave."

Alex didn't answer; he just waited for Desmond to open to door. The younger man sighed and pushed the door open, and the virus entered without giving Desmond a passing glance. Alex didn't even wait for Desmond to close up the door before he started walking up the stairs. Desmond noticed this and swore, picking up his pace a bit.

"Seriously, Lucy's gonna have a bad taste for you after last night. Hell, I still do, too." Desmond tried to convince Alex. It would have been best if the virus just left them before things got out of hand more than they already did. He ran up the stairs and finally caught up with Alex. "And Shaun's just an ass. He'd piss you—"

Desmond couldn't finish. Alex had already opened the door to their safe house. And by opening, he meant giving it one swift kick, forcing the lock to break. Alex entered without hesitation, not waiting to see if Desmond would follow. The assassin heard a gasp and a stifled cry. It belonged to Lucy. Accompanying Lucy's cry was the blubbering shouting that belonged to Shaun as he tried to choke his fear without Alex noticing. Desmond peeked in behind the virus just in time to watch the other assassins back up into the kitchen. Lucy was already feeling around for anything to use as a weapon.

Alex took another step in, ignoring the two's reactions to his unannounced presence and headed towards the couch. Desmond was just entering behind Alex when he saw a kitchen cleaver flung at Alex's back. It found its target, hitting Alex straight in the right shoulder, where it should have rendered the arm useless. Desmond knew that Lucy was the one who had thrown it.

But of course Alex ignored the kitchen cleaver, not even feeling it, and just continued to the couch. He gently placed Rebecca down on the couch before turning to look at the three assassins. Desmond had ran into the kitchen was trying to take other numerous knives out of Lucy's hands, but wasn't succeeding. Lucy looked like she intended to kill, but Alex could pick out the terror in her eyes. And as for the man Desmond called Shaun, he looked like he was having a panic attack in the corner by the small fridge.

"Will you _stop that?"_ Alex shouted at Lucy, clearly aggravated. His arms slightly trembled, rippling even, which caused Desmond and the others to take a step back.

He received no answer. The other assassins were too terrified by the volume of his voice. They winced, and Alex somehow felt even more irritated.

Alex just growled out a sigh and pulled the cleaver out of his shoulder. The assassins watched the act, frozen from fear, horrified like Desmond had been back that first night when Alex pulled out the hidden blade out of his heart. Alex frowned, his eyebrows creasing, and crumpled the cleaver into a metallic ball as if it was a sheet of paper. Alex tossed the crumpled cleaver to the side, the object clanging as it hit the floor boards, and kept his eyes on the group of assassins.

"Uh . . . Shaun, Lucy, this is Alex." Desmond said as he slowly took the knives out of the woman's clenched white hands. He set them down safely behind him in the small kitchen sink. "He helped us escape, remember? And we're thankful, _but he really should get going now."_

Alex didn't get the hint that Desmond was giving him, and neither did the other assassins. They didn't even really hear him, as if he wasn't even in the same room. His words went in one ear, but came out the other. They just continued to stare at each other, their gazes like knives. Lucy kept a pair of hawk like eyes on the virus, and she was foolishly determined not to back down.

Without another word, Alex turned and headed towards one of the apartment's windows. He had had enough of this showdown. The assassins watched, confused, as he opened the window and put a foot out against the building's wall. He turned his head to look at the three, and then glanced at an unconscious Rebecca, his expression softening just a tad. Only Desmond caught it.

"This isn't the last time. I'll be keeping an eye on you." Alex said, his motives a bit vague.

And with that, Alex disappeared from their sight. The only thing left from him was the hostile feelings in the air. Shaun, Lucy, and Desmond all shared a sigh of relief and went over to Rebecca, who was still knocked out. Lucy quickly unraveled the bandages around Rebecca's damaged leg. She let out a sharp breath, astonished at what she saw.

"This is bad." Shaun muttered. He pushed up his glasses and studied her wounds more closely. He got up and walked to his bedroom, coming out with a white bag with a red plus sign on it. "Our first aid kit will keep off an infection, but we need to take her to the hospital if we're to save her leg."

Lucy shook her head. "No, that'll just bring us even more unwanted attention. If anything, I think out trip with Desmond was what tipped Abstergo off in the first place. Bringing her to a hospital will only make the situation worse."

"It's already pretty bad." Desmond sighed, rolling his eyes as he sat down in an open chair. He started to rub his forehead, but stopped halfway when he noticed how poorly he could move his hands with the bandages around them.

It was then that Lucy noticed that Desmond was also wrapped up with bandages. She let Shaun take over and clean Rebecca's injuries by himself while she inspected Desmond's head and hands. Lucy got up and plucked some things out of the first aid kit and made her way over to the other assassin. Lucy shook her head and began to disinfect the gash on his forehead, and he sucked in a deep breath as it stung him.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Lucy smirked as she continued to clean his wound. She started to wrap gauze around his head, hoping to keep it from bleeding again. "Grow up a bit, and take things like a man."

"Hey, chicks love scars." Desmond jokingly flirted.

Lucy shook her head and punched him on the shoulder lightly. The action was one of friendly affection, but Desmond flinched at the touch. Lucy realized that Desmond was still scared shitless after the past twenty four hours, and he needed to calm down before he mentally snapped. If he didn't already mentally snap. Every slight movement seemed to set him on edge.

"Well, you'll have a lot of scars on your hands, that's for sure." Lucy said softly as she looked for anything still deep in the wounds, but found nothing there. She quickly wrapped his hands up and sent him to bed. "You look like a dead dog, go get some sleep."

Desmond groaned and sat up. He made his way to his room and shut the door behind him. A few minutes passed, and Desmond's snores could be faintly heard. Shaun rolled his eyes at the rumbling, and looked over Rebecca to see if anything else was amiss about her. Her clothes were blood stained and gritty, and they looked like they had had their fair share of adventure in their life time. He started to take her jacket off when he noticed something.

Shaun furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity and bent over the unconscious computer techie. Something was neatly tucked into one of her coat's pockets, and it had caught his attention as if it was to do so intentionally. Shaun grabbed it, only to find out that it was a small piece of paper, folded poorly as if the person who did it was in a rush. The Brit sat back in his chair and opened it, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"Um, Lucy?" Shaun shouted after he read the paper. Lucy, who had went back to the kitchen to put the knives away properly, perked up and looked at Shaun's distressed expression. She took in his expression and frowned. "You need to read this. Now."

She didn't know if she wanted to. But she still walked over to Shaun and grabbed the paper out of his hands. Lucy held it up in a ray of sunlight, as if to get a better look at it. She needed it; whoever wrote on the paper had horrible handwriting.

It was a note.

_Thought you'd have a problem with hospitals. Call the number below, ask for a Bradley Ragland. He's good with bad injuries. Tell him Alex gave you the number. _

_555-0169_

That's all that was written, but it was enough to confuse the two assassins. It was obvious that Alex Mercer had given them the note. He must have already guessed that a hospital was where Rebecca needed to go, but couldn't. And somehow he knew why they couldn't seek medical aid. It took a second of thinking, and Shaun and Lucy shared a knowing glance: Desmond had spilled the beans big time to Alex.

But was this a gift? Or a trap? They had no idea anymore. Alex had become an enigma to them overnight. First, he tried to kill Desmond, and then Alex willingly helped Desmond and Rebecca escape Abstergo. Not only that, but Alex had taken care of them through the long night instead of abandoning them, and he even brought them back.

What were his motives? What did he want from them? Maybe Desmond knew, but he was already out cold for who knows how long. They'd just have to wait until he woke up, whenever that was.

"Should we try it?" Shaun whispered, suddenly very paranoid.

Lucy shrugged. "We don't have much of a choice, do we?"

Shaun sighed, rubbing his forehead roughly. He looked at Rebecca one last time, as if she could tell him the right answer. But just one look at the weak woman was enough for him to decide.

"I'll make sure we aren't traced when you call." Shaun muttered as he trudged to his computer, starting up the procedure as fast as he could. Lucy watched Shaun type away at his computer, waiting for him to nod or give her another signal. "You're all set, luv. Whenever you're ready."

Lucy nodded and held out her cell phone. She plugged in the number that Alex gave them and pressed the phone to her ear. Lucy listened to the soft, monotonous ringing, and wondered if someone would actually answer it. Someone finally picked up after the third ring, much to Lucy's relief. She sucked in a breath waiting for someone to answer. Apparently whoever this Bradley Ragland was, he wasn't expecting someone to call him.

"Alex?" A deep male voice asked, his voice shaking subtly with fear. The bass in the man's voice sent vibrations down Lucy's spine, and the woman lost her concentration and zoned out. "Alex, what's wrong?"

"No, this isn't Alex." Lucy finally said in a low and calm voice.

"Then who am I speaking to?" The man asked, his voice obviously showing relief that it wasn't Alex. However, the fear in his voiced was then replaced with suspicion. He spoke with a sharper tongue. "And how did you get this number?"

"I can't disclose that information at the moment. I can only tell you that I need your help. One of my colleagues is badly hurt and it's too dangerous to take her to a hospital." Lucy slowly said. "You may be her only hope."

"Then I'm afraid that you are in trouble, my dear." Ragland spoke without remorse. "I'm just a retired mortician, a frail old man really, that's trying to live the remainder of my years in peace. Sorry, but you're on your own, I'm afraid. Goodbye."

"Wait!" Lucy abruptly cried out, panic taking over her. She didn't know if Ragland had already hung up on her, but she couldn't stop herself. This may be their only chance to help Rebecca. "Alex Mercer gave us this phone number. He instructed us to call you."

The phone was still silent on the other end. Lucy was about to give up when she heard someone let out a deep sigh, and it wasn't hers. There was the sound of papers ruffling and she gave Shaun a confused glance. What was Ragland doing? Shaun shrugged, having no idea was the man was doing either. After a minute, the line went silent once again.

"Meet me at the Chapel between 13th and 14th street on Sixth Avenue in forty five minutes." Ragland finally stated, bringing a wave of relief over the assassins. "Go through the back, behind the restaurant. I'll be there, waiting."

Finally, the man hung up. Lucy turned the phone off and looked at Shaun, who nodded. He had gotten the address and wrote it down on a post it note. Shaun stood up and grabbed his coat that was resting on the back of the chair and put it on. Just a couple seconds passed and Shaun was on his way to the garage. They wouldn't be able to take Rebecca on foot or by subway, so they would have to take the van. Shaun grabbed the keys and motioned for Lucy to follow him.

"I'll be down in a second." Lucy said as she went into her room and took out a wheelchair that they had bought in case of an emergency. Lucy thanked herself for thinking about it back then, knowing that she would have never guessed the series of events that they just went through. "I'm getting Rebecca."

She couldn't hear Shaun's response, but she knew that he heard her. Lucy propped the wheelchair open and placed it by the couch, where it would be easier to transfer the unconscious assassin. Lucy picked Rebecca up and slumped her down into the wheelchair. Rebecca's head rolled around, and Lucy gently placed it in a more comfortable position. With one last glance at Desmond's room, Lucy wheeled Rebecca up and locked the door behind her.

"Take care, Desmond." Lucy whispered as she took her time wheeling the woman to the stairs, where Shaun waited for them. She was speaking more to herself than Desmond, as if she was trying to calm down her own nerves more. "We'll take over from here. Just get some rest."

* * *

The assassins had arrived at the destination about half an hour later. On their way through the traffic filled streets, Rebecca had finally awakened from her pain induced coma. The first thing she did was start groaning in pain. Shaun had been holding her hand for support, and now the woman was squeezing the blood out of his own. Her grip was so intense.

During that time, Shaun had tried to fill the girl up with enough pain medicine to knock her out again. Just as Lucy was pulling the van into the Chapel's small back parking lot, Rebecca was starting to sink back into a groggy unconsciousness. However, the computer techie was determined to stay awake, having slept through enough excitement already.

"Alright, Becca, but take it easy." Shaun finally caved in as the van's engine was shut off. Rebecca gave him a clouded gaze, her movements slow hitched slightly, before giving him a dazed smile. "He might decide to drug you anyways."

"Don't sweat it, Shaun. I'll be fine." Rebecca muttered, her voice gruff.

Shaun sighed and wheeled Rebecca out of the van carefully. The woman clutched onto the wheelchair as if her life depended on it, and she flinched when Shaun hit a rock on the asphalt. The Brit muttered an apology and continued to wheel Rebecca to where Lucy was waiting for them, which was by the front of the white van.

"How are you holding up?" Lucy asked. She looked over the other woman, picking out all the obvious injuries and wondered which one was the one that hurt the worst. It was evident that her broken leg was causing the most amount of pain.

"Never better." Rebecca forced through gritted teeth. She was lying.

Lucy nodded and led the two to the Chapel's back door. A black Chevy truck was parked by the back entrance, most likely belonging to Ragland. Good, at least the Doctor had decided to show up. The three assassins were still on edge, but they had to get this appointment done and over with.

They stopped by the entrance, Lucy's hand gripping the steel doorknob. She and Shaun shared a hesitant glance before breathing a sigh. This could still be a trap, and it would all be over with in an instant. Rebecca knew this too, but in her pained, drugged out state of mind, she disregarded this fact and huffed out an impatient complaint.

"My leg feels like it went through a flippin' shredder. Can we _please_ get on with this?"

Another second passed, and Lucy forced her hand to pull the door open.

They entered a dimly lit hallway, but could see that it opened up at the ending. Shaun slowly and cautiously pushed Rebecca forward, his eyes darting from side to side if there were any signs of danger. The wheelchair creaked against the Chapel's old wooden floor, and Shaun silently cursed the man that designed this old place. Obviously they hadn't thought about evasiveness when constructing it.

Lucy closed the door right behind them, and narrowed her eyes in suspicion and fright. Just in the little crevices of the door were spots of old blood stains. That was not a good sign. Blood was never a good sign. She pulled a small pistol out of her brown jacket and silently followed Shaun down the hallway. At the first sign of danger, she would pull the trigger.

The three assassins slowly entered the back room, where an old man was sitting at a desk, facing away from them. The man had all of his tools laid out and ready for use. He had no idea what sort of trouble his caller was in, so he had just decided to bring the lot of them.

"Bradley Ragland?" Shaun finally asked, breaking the silence of the room.


	11. The Checkup

"Bradley Ragland?" Shaun asked, shattering the deafening silence of the room.

The man instantly tensed up at Shaun's voice, and he took a long second to recollect himself. Lucy relaxed slightly; his reaction time was way too slow for him to attack them effectively. With a deep, powerful sigh, the man turned around. He stared at the assassins, recognizing them from somewhere, but unable to name a place and time. The man eyed them for a second longer before nodding.

"Yes? Are you with the woman that contacted me?" Ragland ask, keeping the group assassins in his sight as they brought Rebecca closer towards them. Something told him that he should watch his back with them around.

"Yes, that was me on the phone." Lucy said as she kept to the edge of their little cluster. Her trigger finger was resting on the trigger, and she felt her grip tighten on the gun. Like Ragland, she remembered him from somewhere. She raked her memories from the past couple weeks, as those were the weeks were when they made the most contact with the outside world. Lucy couldn't remember anything. "My name is . . . Lucy, and we're in a bit of a pickle."

Ragland hesitantly nodded. He took a step closer, which caused the assassins to tense a little. Ragland noticed this and remained where he stood. He took in Rebecca, noticing that she was the one that was injured out of the three, and hummed as he thought. "Looks like you've got a broken leg, there, and a deep gash too. No worries, these things are fairly easy to fix."

"That's a relief, Doc. For a second, I was pretty worried that you'd have to amputate it." Rebecca muttered, still completely full of drugs. She stuck out her right hand, and Ragland took it. "Name's Rebecca, by the way."

"It's a pleasure, miss." Ragland muttered.

Ragland walked over to his supplies and then sorted out what he needed to disinfect the wounds and then cast it up. While he did so, the assassins watched him work with curious and wary eyes. The man had decided to comply, but there was still a large chance of this being a trap. As the old man returned, Shaun and Rebecca seemed to relax slightly, but Lucy was still on edge.

The mortician went straight to work. As soon as the disinfectant hit Rebecca's wounds, she flinched from the pain, and Lucy almost pulled her gun to Ragland's temple. But after a second, the computer techie settled down, and let out a breath of relief. Even though she was still drugged up, she could feel small remnants of pain, and this soothed her.

Ragland continued working, not noticing Lucy's gut wrench instinct to kill him. It was like a cloud of resistance to danger was hanging around the doctor. In fact, after working for Alex for so long, he sort of grew immune to any sense of danger around him. It was both a blessing and a curse, as he didn't realize that if he made one wrong move, he would most likely get a bullet through his forehead.

"Do you mind telling me how you met Alex?" The mortician asked, breaking the silence. He was interested in them, though he could tell that they were cautious to talk about themselves.

"Yes." Lucy stated without hesitating. She walked over and leaned against the Chapel's wall, still in a position to shoot the man if anything went wrong. Shaun sat down in a nearby chair, and was soon left to play with his glasses and cleaning him. "We could ask the same for you, though."

"Alex needed my help many years ago. Back during the . . . the Outbreak. You must know about the Outbreak by now. I wasn't in the best position at the time, mind you. And now, even after all these years. Alex still relies on me. Strange, isn't it?" Ragland paused and saw Shaun nod his head in agreement. He let out a small sigh and continued to clean Rebecca's wounds. Suddenly, he frowned. "Remarkable, I'm not the first person to attend to your wounds."

"That's not surprising, actually. We did what we could back at our place." Lucy informed, raising an eyebrow. "It wasn't much."

"Yes, but there's no sign of what had caused so much damage to this woman. No sign whatsoever." Ragland was lost in deep thought. He pulled up a chair next to Rebecca and sat in it. "Did Alex by any chance aid you in any other way other than giving you my phone number?"

"She had her wounds wrapped up when . . . _Alex_ dropped her off." Shaun stated slowly, growing more curious.

"I'll take that as a yes. Interesting." Ragland muttered the last word to himself. He began to lay the cast out on Rebecca's broken leg, and Rebecca took great interest in the man's work. She was still completely drugged, and was behaving a little bit out of character. "Very interesting."

"What's interesting?" Shaun asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't like the sound of 'very interesting'. No, not one bit. He got up, frowned fiercely, and hovered over Ragland like an annoying gnat, inspecting his careful work. Shaun wanted to make sure Rebecca was fine.

Ragland gave him an impatient look, and Shaun stepped back a couple feet. Ragland didn't answer him, only holding up a finder to motion for him to be patient. Shaun and Lucy were forced to wait for an answer as Ragland finished laying out Rebecca's cast, but he made sure that the large tear in her skin was exposed so it could be attended to accordingly. Once he was sure that everything was fine, Ragland started to mold it.

"It's interesting because I've seen this kind of wound more than once. Here, look at this." Ragland motioned for Shaun to join him, and even Rebecca tried to lean over her broken leg. "This part here, the jagged cuts in her skin, is the actual wound. But if you look closely at the part where the most damage was taken, it has a different pigment and texture. It looks like it has cleared of debris. _This_ is the part that I am familiar with."

"What's wrong with it?" Rebecca asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she grew slightly worried.

"Nothing, my dear. In fact, it's in better shape than the rest of the wound. There's no sign of infection, and it has been properly worked on. It's been picked clean by steady hands." Ragland reassured the computer techie. "Or rather, I should say by steady claws."

You could practically hear a pin drop after the mortician's last statement. Shaun and Lucy shared an uneasy glance; they were taken aback by his statement. There was only one person that they knew of that had claws for hands, and that was a certain sociopath. The realization unnerved them, not so much for Rebecca, who just nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Wait, Dr. Ragland. Are you saying that Mercer cleaned up Rebecca's wounds?" Shaun stuttered, baffled.

"That is exactly what I am saying. From what I know, Alex has only . . . aided a certain amount of people like this." Ragland said as he stopped working on Rebecca. All that they had to do now was wait for the cast to set properly, and that would take a few minutes. "I give you three my condolences. You have seemed to have found yourselves in a precarious set of circumstances."

"How so?" Lucy asked, her voice low and ominous. Lucy glared at the doctor. She didn't like the sound of that.

The woman's job was to protect the others as Desmond trained to become master assassin and until they find the location of the piece of Eden. The last thing she needed was a sociopathic monster on their heels. Lucy motioned for the retired mortician to continue, which he did so.

"The best way I can explain it is to go into the depths of his dark mind." Ragland muttered softly, but still within the other's ability to hear. "Alex has been put through great mental stress, like no other man on this world has ever known. So much that, like others who have been put through psychological strain, he has deep trust issues. Surely you have seen it in those eyes of his. However,"

Ragland paused and wet his lips. This only made the assassins anxious.

"However, Alex can grow . . . attached to people; that's the simplest way of explaining it. The man becomes close to someone that interests him or that he believes can benefit him. I myself being one of them." Ragland tried to explain, but only confusing the assassins even more. "It seems that that Alex has not only gained an interest on you three, but he has also grown attached."

"I'm afraid that I still don't completely understand, Doctor." Shaun confessed. "He's grown attached? Like a mangy mutt?"

"Almost. I've concluded that there are three stages that Alex goes through." Ragland said as he checked Rebecca's forming cast. It was forming correctly, and the mortician sat back down by the woman. "The first stage is interest, the next is loyalty, and the last is . . . possessiveness. Alex has already gained an interest to you three, that much is clear."

"And the next stage is loyalty? I don't like the sound of that." Lucy muttered the last sentence to herself, but the others could still hear it. She heaved out a large sigh and hunched her shoulders. "And how the hell can he grow possessive of us?"

"I don't think he will, actually." Ragland said, nodding his head stiffly and keeping a small frown on his face. "I've only seen it happen once, and that was by a set of circumstances that I still don't understand completely. But she has been gone for a while, and Alex may need someone to fill the void. He needs something to be _his_."

"That doesn't sound good." Shaun said after a break in the conversation.

Ragland shook his head. "I agree with you, once he makes something 'his', it'll never be able to escape. For your well being, I advise you to not allow Alex to grow closer. He might not show his interest, but it's there, and all he'll cause is more trouble."

"How is it that I already have a bad feeling about this?" Shaun said with a groan as he face-palmed.

* * *

While the other assassins were busy secretly interrogating Ragland for information on Alex, Desmond was recuperating from the long, hard night. He had been asleep for most of the time, dreaming that he was flying on the rooftops in Italy on a starry night with a group of guards on his heels. It was a common dream, and for that, Desmond was grateful.

Desmond woke up a couple hours later, groggy from sleeping for only a short amount of time. He let out a groan and forced himself up off of his bed and stretched his back and shoulders. With a yawn, Desmond looked in a mirror and noticed how exhausted he still looked. The man shrugged; he was used to this look by now.

His stomach rumbled faintly and Desmond swore out loud. He couldn't remember when the last time he ate was; he could only remember the long night at Abstergo and his time with Alex. Desmond shut those memories aside and pondered what he could make to eat. With just one thought, he knew exactly what he wanted to eat. The assassin quickly changed into a clean set of clothes, which consisted of a new white hoodie and another pair of blue jeans, and then left his room.

He trudged around like a coffee-depraved zombie and stumbled into the kitchen. It must have been past noon, but it felt like morning to Desmond. He habitually turned the coffee maker on, and while the machine grumbled, Desmond took out a frying pan. The assassin slammed the frying pan onto the stove top and turned the stove on. Desmond then continued to semiconsciously prepare himself some scrambled eggs.

About ten minutes later, Desmond had successfully prepared himself a breakfast. With a sip of his black coffee, he carried a full plate of eggs and a piece of toast to the small kitchen table, where papers and blueprints from last night were still scattered around haphazardly. However, somehow on his way to the table, Desmond tripped over his own feet and lost most of the contents of his meal. The scrambled eggs fell to the floor and splattered into what looked like a piece of abstract art.

"_Oh, merda!" _Desmond swore in Italian, which was the only remnant of his fading dreams. He set his now empty plate down on the table and started cleaning up the mess. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and bent over his mess. _"Can I have just one moment of easiness in my life? Or does everything have to be a problem for me?"_

A second passed, and then someone else spoke.

"Do you always speak a different language as soon as you wake up?" Alex's voice rang through the hideout. Desmond looked up to see the man in the leather jacket leaning against a closed window, arms crossed and a permanent frown plastered on his face. Desmond jumped a little at the sight, but regained his bearings in an instant and continued picking up his eggs, ignoring the monster. "Or is it only when I'm around?"

Desmond stood up and threw the mess into a nearby trashcan. Once the mess had been cleaned up, he returned his attention to the intruder. Desmond spoke as he opened the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice.

"_No, not all the time."_ Desmond said, and then quickly realized that he was still speaking in Italian. He stopped and went through his brain, trying to find the switch to turn off the Bleeding Effect. After a heavy thought process, Desmond tried again. "I mean, no, not usually. It depends on how much stress I'm going through."

Alex just nodded his head and walked closer to Desmond. Desmond took a quick gulp of orange juice before setting the carton back down in the fridge. He grabbed what looked to be pepperoni and took a bite out of it. He felt he was starving and just needed something in his stomach. Desmond sat down at the kitchen table, keeping his eyes on Alex.

"That's . . . interesting." Alex muttered as he took in the room around.

"Why are you here?" Desmond suddenly asked, cutting to the chase.

"What does it look like? I'm keeping an eye on you." Alex said, not looking at the assassin, but at the Animus that was out in front of him. He noticed how weirdly designed it was, and wondered what use it was for the assassins. "You're friends left with Rebecca to fix her up, leaving you behind. I'm making sure you don't do something stupid, like stabbing yourself with that blade of yours."

Desmond frowned in disgust as he took another bite out of his pepperoni. He didn't like the sound of that. He felt like he was being _babysat_. But what he really didn't like was that the other assassins had left him alone without leaving a note or something. He didn't feel comfortable all of a sudden. Shivers went down his spine as Alex turned to give him a predator-like stare.

Desmond had been sleeping for who knows how long, vulnerable to any attacks made by Abstergo. And Alex Mercer was here. With him. Alone.

Desmond suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. Alex may have helped them numerous times, but the assassins still didn't trust him. Those eyes, they were still glaring at him as if trying to find the best way to kill him. Desmond knew nothing about Alex other than what Rebecca found, and there was more to it than that.

"Oh, um, thanks?" Desmond muttered as he started backing up away from Alex. Alex noticed this and took a couple steps closer to the assassin. "But I think I can handle myself."

Alex snorted and sat down on the couch awkwardly, feeling very out of place. He kept glancing back at the Animus, wondering what it was. Desmond noticed this and tried to get the other man's attention off of it. Desmond walked over to Shaun's computer and started logging onto it, but knew very well that Shaun didn't like him using it.

"How about we make a deal?" Desmond asked, clearly trying to rid himself of Alex. "I'll give some information on Abstergo, and you can leave. That's what you actually want, right? I mean, you're not here to babysit me, right?"

Alex didn't give him an answer. In reality, he didn't even hear Desmond's proposal. Alex's attention was still on the Animus, which was just to the left of him. He reached out to touch it, and then he finally noticed that Desmond was acting very strange. His hand paused in midair, and he stared at Desmond, who was having a hard time holding back his tongue to tell him to not touch it.

"What is this?" Alex finally asked, sounding sincerely curious.

"Rebecca's."

Alex frowned, that wasn't the kind of answer he was looking for. Now the virus knew that this was a sore subject for Desmond, and that he should probably avoid asking about it again. However, his curiosity was getting the better of him yet again, and Alex stood up and touched it. He could feel Desmond getting irritated about his contact with the machine, but he didn't care.

"What does it do, Desmond?" Alex asked, his voice almost to a growl. He was trying to be more specific and more intimidating than before. Desmond flinched at the hostility in his voice, but regained his posture as Alex continued. "Why do you need it?"

"I don't feel at liberty to say." Desmond finally muttered, glaring at Alex. Desmond shut off Shaun's laptop and went over to the Animus. He sat down on it, and then crossed his arms in defiance, trying to show more confidence than he had around Alex. "I don't think the other assassins, including Rebecca, would like it if I spill these beans."

"All the more reason to."

Desmond gave Alex a funny look and then shook his head, exasperated. He then scratched at the bandage on his head rather furiously, as if to show how impatient he was at the moment. Alex didn't move where he stood, like he was frozen in time as he thought of what Desmond did and didn't tell him of the machine in front of him.

"Look, I need to take a shower." Desmond finally said, trying to change the subject off of the Animus. His voice was cold and hard, just like his expression. "I think it's best for you to leave. Now."

Alex frowned as he watched Desmond head to the bathroom, grabbing a starch towel on the way there. Desmond shut the door behind him, and Alex could hear the water running. This had not gone according to his plan. He wanted more answers from Desmond while the other assassins were away. But instead, the man had avoided any further questions by _taking a shower_.

Suddenly, Alex felt hungry. He suddenly remembered that last night's fiasco had him running on low biomass, despite the Abstergo soldiers he had consumed. He'd have to consume a few people before going any further in his investigation of the assassins and Abstergo. Alex didn't want to end up consuming the assassins if he got a little too desperate and tripped up.

On the other hand, he could consume that bitch Lucy if he waited for them to return. But that'd probably get him into a lot of trouble that he didn't need.

When he finally decided that it would be best for him to consume a few hobos quickly, he heard a van pull up to the back of the building. Alex looked out the window and saw that the other assassins were returning. He saw that Rebecca was finally awake, but in a wheelchair being pushed by the man Desmond called Shaun. He noticed that she had a cast on her broken leg. Alex nodded at this observation; Ragland did a good job, so he wouldn't need to check up on the mortician for details.

Alex went over to the open window before looking back at the bathroom where Desmond was showering. Desmond had started to sing in the shower, as if it was an attempt to repel him even more with his out of tune song.

"I'll be back, Desmond. There's no getting rid of me now." Alex muttered, determined that he'd get what he wanted.

* * *

Sorry for the extremely late update, I've been kind of busy these past few weeks. But to make up for it, I've been spending the past 48 hours writing three chapters for this. I'll upload another chapter tomorrow or sometime this week for keeping you guys in the dark.

I'm also sorry that this chapter is not really up to par with the others. I had a huge mental block while writing this. I guess I should stop watching Tobuscus while writing . . .


	12. Good Samaritan

"No, please, have mercy on my soul!" The old man with a graying beard screamed as his voice trembled with complete and utter terror. His life flashed before his bloodshot eyes, and he held up his hands in a futile attempt to protect himself from the monster in front of him. "Mercy, mercy!"

Alex had spent the past hour searching for a hobo or two near the assassin hideout, as he didn't want to get too far away from them. He finally found an old, drunk man by the mouth of an alleyway, and it was far too easy for Alex to lure him away from the safety of the streets. The two now stood in the back of said alleyway, far from the eyes of any potential witnesses, and Alex took the opportunity to scare the man out of his wits.

"That word has no meaning to me." Alex stated as he picked the man up and pinned him against the back wall with one hand.

With his other hand, Alex grabbed the man's throat and crushed it. As the man died, Ales quickly consumed the poor man, his tendrils practically dissolving the fresh flesh and splattering the blood around messily. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing left but a small pool of blood on the ground, and a lot of blood splatter on Alex. Alex slowly licked the blood on his hands off in a casual manner and then waited for the flood of memories to come rushing in.

Finally, they came, and Alex fought to repress them as soon as they did. However, one managed to slip by, and he was forced to watch it.

_He was sitting on a bench in Central Park, a bottle of booze wrapped in a brown bag in his hand. The contents of the bottle were almost gone, and the man was starting to get grouchy because of that. He left Central Park to find a liquor store a couple blocks down. Everyone ignored him, as he was part of the dregs of society._

_It didn't take him long to reach the liquor store, and he burst in like he was a regular there. The store was empty save one person: the shopkeeper. He looked of Mexican descent but looked nothing like an illegal immigrant. The shopkeeper looked up at him, and then frowned in disgust and put down the newspaper he had been reading._

"_What now, Frank?" The shopkeeper asked, his tone one of resentment._

"_Got's anything with a little kick?" He asked the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper shook his head feverishly, and then the man got a little volatile in that moment. "You're lyin', Reggie, I knows you are."_

_Finally, the shopkeeper picked up his cell phone._

"_Leave now, or I'll have you arrested. I don't want to have repeat of last week's incident, Frank." The shopkeeper threatened. "It's safer for all of us if you get locked up."_

_And then, suddenly, he lashed out at the shopkeeper. The two had a small tussle, and there were injuries on both sides. But the shopkeeper was a lot smaller and weaker than he was. A few seconds later, he was able to knock the shopkeeper out, and the poor man fell to the floor._

_He nodded in approval, and then happily went to work on raiding the liquor store. A few minutes later, he walked out of the store with enough booze to satisfy himself for a few days._

The memories ended, and Alex had the sudden urge to throw up what remained of the old man. Alex was disgusted by all kinds of drunks, and he questioned why he fed on them. The only reason he consumed the poor and homeless was because they were easy to miss and they had nobody close to them. But that left Alex with memories that he hated, which only soured him up.

He never had much of a happy life, even when it was just the original Alex Mercer instead of a virus impersonating him. But the memories that he gained from consuming these people only added to the anger and hatred in his life. He never really knew what happiness was, and never experienced it.

Sure, he had Dana, but even then it was more of an instinctive protectiveness over her. She had been happy around him, but he couldn't return the feelings. He knew what love was, as he loved his sister, but he didn't know what happiness was.

"I seriously need to rethink my diet." Alex sarcastically joked as he climbed up onto the top of a nearby roof.

Alex stood there, looking over his city. He truly owned New York, as no one could take it away from him. Blackwatch had tried to take Manhattan away from him for almost a year before they had decided to fall back and formulate the cover-up story. Ever since then, no one dared to stand in his way around his city. The people who lived in Manhattan were his to do whatever he wants with, be it consume them or find interest in.

Even the assassins were his, in a sense. Alex could quickly kill all four of them, but something held him back when it came to Rebecca and Desmond. The other two? He didn't know them well enough to decide if they were worth his interest.

He could do anything he pleased in the city, but just chose not to.

Alex turned to look at the assassins' safe house, which was just in his field of view. They had closed the curtains as soon as Rebecca, Shaun, and Lucy returned. But he could faintly make out that they were busy working at whatever they did. What made it interesting to Alex was that there was a faintly glow passing through the curtains, as if the TV was on a blank, white channel.

Alex desperately wanted to know what they were doing. It was driving him insane, like a mosquito buzzing by his ear and he was impossible for him to swat it away. He had an idea that it had to do with the machine that caught his eye earlier. Desmond had tried to avoid his questions about it, which only supported his theory.

As much as he wanted to know what the assassins were doing, he also knew that they needed space, which he had a reputation for ignoring. Nonetheless, Alex had decided to try to give them a day or two off to let them do their thing while he did his. Not only did he have to regain his standard level of biomass back, but it was almost time to visit Dana again.

Alex turned around and jumped onto the building across the street. He slowly made his way towards midtown, deciding to consume one last person before going to the flower shop to get Dana some flowers. A few minutes later, he was standing on a roof and gazing up at the Empire State Building. Out of all buildings, this one was his favorite, probably because this building had endured through both waves of the Outbreak. It was like him, a survivor, and a monument for what America stood for: freedom. And Alex was the freest man in the world.

A slight movement caught the virus's attention, and Alex looked downward onto the street. A woman was walking down the street in a steady pace, which was typical. She had a coat on, had long brown hair, and was heading for the subway entrance across the street, which was also typical.

What was not typical was that she was being followed by a group of thugs, and that she didn't even notice it.

There were three guys in all, most likely a part of a gang. They were all wearing identical hoodies with a gang symbol on their right sleeve and were heavily smoking cigarettes. One of the men whistled as the girl passed them, and he motioned for the others to follow her. The woman didn't notice that they were on her heels as she made her way down into Manhattan's underground subway system.

The men quickly followed her down below, and when they were out of Alex's sight, that was when he decided to jump off of the building. He landed in an alleyway with a large _thud_, and then made his way to the subway, knowing all too well what they were planning. He had feasted on the minds too many criminals, sickos, and undesirables to understand what was going to happen.

They were going to gang bang her.

He quickly jumped down the staircase, ignoring the odd looks that people were giving him, and hastily looked around for either the woman or the three men. The staircase had led him to a small, open rail track, and the soft rumble of a passing subway was audible. He spotted the woman at the booth, who was looking for a map or trying to by a card to get onto the subway. The men weren't that far behind her, and they were snickering as they watched the woman.

Alex repressed the instinct to growl at them. He was known to be a monster, a merciless sociopathic killer with a questionable history record. He wouldn't hesitate to slaughter a puppy and then smear its warm blood on the owner if that meant it would benefit him in some shape or form. But he would never do what they were planning. He had limits, and raping someone was one of them.

It took all of his strength not to kill the men right then and there, but that would most likely get him on the five o'clock news in a jiffy. And that would lead to a series of events that Alex did not want. No, he'll wait when they were in a more isolated area, and then he'd murder those men.

The woman finally got what she wanted and thanked the man behind the booth. She headed to the track, where a departing subway was slowly gained speed. The track was almost deserted, most of the people had already climbed onto the last train, and there weren't many people coming down to catch the next one right away. She tightened up her coat, and then headed down to a more private part of the track, as if she wanted to spend some alone time. The men looked happy that she was leaving the more populated part of the track, which meant that there would be fewer witnesses.

Alex could feel himself already trembling, and he forced his own hands to not turn into claws. Patience was the key here, but the thought of waiting was deepening his scowl. Alex stopped following, but stayed at a distance close enough that he could kill them in an instance if things got out of hand quickly. Alex kept his eyes on them, like a lion watching an injured gazelle limp through the savannah.

The woman finally stopped and pulled out her cell phone. The men took this opportunity and advanced on the woman. She finally detected the danger that she had foolishly put herself in and took a couple steps away. The men only barked out a couple laughs and came closer to her.

"Hey, babe, where you goin'?" One man said, obviously the leader in this disgusting act. He had a heavy Brooklyn accent, and carried himself like he had a bad reputation, and knew it. "Need any help?"

The woman didn't answer him; she only gave him a slightly terrified glance as she slowly caught onto his intentions. Her hand was gripping at her phone, her knuckles turning a snow white with the amount of pressure. She took another step back, but found herself at the wall. The men shared a hungry glance, and the woman stiffly brought her phone to her ear.

"Naw, you don't wanna do that, right Pedro?" One of the other men said in a Hispanic accent, and the leader nodded his head. The one who spoke advanced on the woman and grabbed the phone out of her hand. He tossed the phone down into the track, where it rested against one of the railway rails. "Now it's just you and us, _mi querido_."

"Stay back." The woman finally found her voice, and it trembled with fear. "Stay away from me."

The leader, Pedro, shook his head and made a tsking noise of disapproval. He put an arm on the wall next to the terrified woman and stared into her wide eyes. He breathed on her, and she wrinkled her nose at the combined stench of rotting teeth, alcohol, and cigarettes. He grinned, and it was the most disturbing look that Alex had seen on a human.

"Don't worry; _we'll take good care of you_." Pedro mockingly promised, which got the audible approval of his companions.

Alex couldn't take it anymore, this had gone too far for his liking. He stepped out of his cover and made his way to the men. They saw him coming, and they glared at him. Alex returned the glare and clenched his hands into powerful, tight fists.

"Step away from her." Alex ordered, his voice a menacing growl.

"Screw that," The last of the three men stated angrily as he flipped Alex the finger, "we do what we want."

Alex wasn't intimidated, and he remained where he stood. The men shared a glance, and then Pedro quickly grabbed the woman. The woman gasped at the touch, flinching even, and then Pedro took a knife and held it against her neck. Alex tensed at the sight; if he made a wrong move, they would kill her. Pedro smirked, and then motioned for to walk away.

"That's right, motha' fucker, don't mess with the Clan." Pedro said as he slowly nodded. "Now beat it before we force you to take the express."

Alex growled, which must have frightened the gang members, and he slowly turned around. He wouldn't leave them; he'd just have to kill them at a longer distance. However, as he turned around, he heard the woman pleading for him to save her, and he froze. Just her words made him think of Dana back when she was taken by the Hunter. He groaned as the memories came back, and remembered how useless he felt when he had lost Dana. Because he couldn't save her, she fell into the same coma she was still in today.

"Please, please." The girl was sobbing. "Don't—"

"Shut the hell up, bitch." Pedro said as he slapped her.

With that, Alex turned around and punched the nearest thug. He fell back against the wall, and the wall cracked under the force. The man groaned, but stood up. Alex didn't put a lot of power in his punch; he didn't want to kill them. Not just yet. He wanted to woman to be at a safe enough distance before he shredded the disgusting men into meat strips that were akin to uncooked bacon.

"You're gonna pay for that." The thug threatened as he threw a punch out at Alex. Alex easily dodged it with a single step to the left, and grabbed the man's arm. He threw the man into his friends, which caused Pedro to lose his grip on the woman.

The woman didn't hesitate to make her way away from them, and she gave a frightened glance at Alex.

"Get out of here!" Alex ordered, shoving her away from them.

Then, there was the sound of someone loading a gun. The woman froze, and Alex turned to see one of the goons holding a revolver at her. Alex was shocked, and the woman made a sound of defeat. The three gang members picked themselves up, and the other two quickly pulled out similar guns from their pockets.

"That was a bad thing to do, _bastardo_." the Spanish speaking one said and motioned for Alex to get away from the woman. Alex was forced to comply; if he didn't, they would most likely shoot the woman. "We take what we want, and kill those who get in our way. Now stand by the edge there."

Alex slowly and begrudgingly moved to the edge of the track. He looked down into the bowels of the subway system, down at the rails, down at the rotting rat carcasses, down at the trash people had haphazardly thrown. He felt a gun rest against his back. Alex knew that a bullet wouldn't kill him, but he didn't know if the third rail down below would. It was electrically charged, and could kill a human easily. The virus wasn't too fond of electricity either, and Cross had exploited that single fact numerous times years ago.

Then there was the sound of a train coming. Usually by now, the sound would grow softer as the subway train slowed down. But instead, it grew louder as if it was gaining speed. Alex glanced to see the light from the train as it grew closer.

"Listen to that, you know what it is?" Pedro said, his voice full of arrogance. "That's the express we was talkin' about before. It doesn't stop at this station, but you're a special customer. Don't miss it."

The sound of the train grew deafening, and it finally burst from the end of the station. With so much as a push, Alex was thrown in front of the train. Alex didn't even make it to the rail tracks before the front of the subway train rammed into him. The virus didn't easily feel pain, but he had felt _this_. Alex soon went from zero miles per hour to at least fifty miles per hour, maybe even more. He was carried away from the scene, leaving the woman alone to fend for herself.

"Ah, shit." Alex muttered as he tried to pry himself off of the subway, finding that he had made an indent in the front of the train.

* * *

Pedro looked content when the express train had disappeared, leaving no trace of the mysterious hooded man. He had killed before, and he had no hard feeling for leading a man to death via subway. He returned his attention to the woman, who was horrified as she watched her savor get killed.

"Now, where were we?" Pedro said, which got the other two gang members riled up.

The woman backed up away from them, but the gang members just aimed their guns at her. Finally, she let out a stifled cry of defeat, and her head hung low. Pedro nodded his head and made his way to the woman. He grabbed the woman's chin, and held it up in the light. Pedro could see tears streaming down her eyes as she knew what was coming next.

"I want to hear you scream." Pedro whispered in her ear, a malicious smile covering his face. "I want to hear you beg for mercy."

"_That word has no meaning to me."_

Pedro dropped the woman and looked up, only to see the man that they had just killed standing at the other end of the subway station. He looked completely unharmed, but as pissed as hell. The man's eyes were filled with fury that knew no ending. His whole body seemed to be trembling with utter rage and hatred. The men stared in awe and terror at the man before them.

There was no way he could have survived that.

"And that," The man said, seething with rage. He looked up at them, and his eyes looked like they instantly turned red, as if the pupils had changed from their unnatural blue color. The man took a step closer, and the thugs had the sudden urge to flee, to escape from the immediate danger. _"run,"_ their instincts told them, _"run, survive, hide."_ "Was a very foolish thing to do."

Before the thugs could respond, the man sprinted down the track. He was by their side in seconds, and he grabbed the nearest thug, and smashed his face down into the ground numerous times.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. _

_Crack!_ The last one shattered the tiled floor, and steaming blood soon poured into the crevasses.

The hooded man knew that he had just beaten the other to death. Still, he continued to do so even after he knew that the man was dead. The man was taking some anger management issues out on the dead body, and soon, he threw the mangled body down in the subway trench.

"Andre!" One of the thugs cried out as he fumbled to shoot the man. He finally was able to find his grip and shot at the man until his clip was out of bullets. The hooded man barely recoiled against the bullets as they entered his body, and he glared at the man, his eyes a horrifying blood red that dared to take the other's soul. "How is this possible?"

The hooded man lunged at other and grabbed his throat and then his shoulder. Using his shoulder as a balance, the hooded man gripped at his throat until his fingers dug through his flesh. The gang member screamed from the pain, but stopped when the hooded man grabbed the contents of his neck, such as the trachea and the esophagus, and pulled it out of him. The gang member fell to the ground, unable to breath and bleeding out. He died a slow, painful death, with Pedro watching him.

The hooded man looked up at Pedro, the dead man's trachea still in his hand. He clenched his hand, crushing the trachea as he did so. Pedro finally decided that the odds weren't in his favor, and turned to run away. He didn't go far, something had grabbed him by his left foot and tripped him. He fell to the ground in a hard thud, and looked up to see that the hooded man was standing in front of him. What had grabbed him he guessed was the man's arm. But it wasn't an arm, it was a mass of tendrils that formed into a long whip.

"What the hell are you?" Pedro finally asked, his voice shaking.

The hooded man ignored the question and asked his own. "You see where the woman went? No? Neither have I."

Pedro tried to look, and sure enough, the woman was long gone. Somehow, he felt that the woman had brought him safety, but now that was gone, there was nothing that could stop the monster, the demon, in front of him from destroying him. And both men knew this.

"She escaped while I killed your friends. It's a good thing for her. Now I can do whatever I want with you." The man said it as if it was a promise. "Trust me, I'm going to enjoy this freedom. This freedom of watching you suffer and squeal like the vermin you are. You are the scum of society, and I wouldn't dare think of eating you. I won't even consider you as an option for lunch."

The hooded man smirked as he saw the man tremble when he spoke of eating him. The monster let out a low chuckle, but nothing he said was amusing. The hooded man picked Pedro up with his whip arm and held him in front of his face. Pedro could see how lifeless the man's face was; the only thing this face had seen was death, and a lot of it.

"You see, people call me a killer, a monster, a terrorist. I'm all of these things." The hooded man glared at him, and Pedro couldn't keep his eyes off of the red pupils right in front of him. "And you're about to experience the worst side of me."

Pedro couldn't help but whimper in terror.


	13. Come Together

When Desmond stepped out of the shower, he found that the other assassins had returned, and were already back to their work. He grimaced when he saw Rebecca in a wheelchair, but noticed that she looked fine, content even, as she wheeled her way around the safe house. Desmond greeted the assassins nonchalantly and headed into his room to change into a clean pair of clothes.

A few minutes later, as he was putting on a grey T-shirt, Desmond heard a faint knock on his door.

"Desmond, are you alright?" It was Lucy.

Desmond opened the door and saw that the other assassin holding her head up high and proud. However, she looked anything but proud. Lucy's face was covered by an anxious frown, and her eyes looked tired and weary from the stress of the past few days. Her blond hair was greasy, and that was when Desmond noticed that Lucy was in the same clothes that she had been wearing back at the bar, which seemed so long ago.

"I could ask you the same thing." Desmond muttered as he continued to look over his friend.

Before he knew it, Lucy took Desmond into a hug. Desmond was shocked that Lucy was showing this kind of affection, but he knew that they had gone through a lot, and the woman needed some form of comfort. He took her into a stronger hold, and the two remained there for a long minute. Lucy wasn't one to show her emotions, as she was usually all business. But she was also one of the most caring people Desmond knew.

Finally, Lucy broke the contact and regained her composure. She fixed her bun and went back to her work station, already turning her computer back on. Desmond followed her, but stopped when he was in front of the Animus.

"You ready to go under?" Rebecca asked as she started to boot up her Baby.

Desmond shrugged. "Sure, why not? Maybe this time I can go ask Leonardo who the Mona Lisa is or whatever."

Rebecca gave off a slight chuckle at Desmond's half-hearted joke as he sat down on the Animus. She wheeled over and helped Desmond prepare to be taken under. After a couple minutes of fumbling around, Desmond was laying on top of the Animus in a coma-like state of mind, only his eyes moving around as he relived his ancestor's memories. Every once in a while, his body would tense and relax, as if he was preparing himself to fight someone.

After he was sure the other man was under, Shaun looked up at Lucy, and the two shared a quick glance.

They were still paranoid that Alex could be lurking around. It didn't sit well with the two of them that Alex now knew where they lived and operated. On the drive home, the three assassins had decided that a change of scenery was the best plan of action. While Shaun and Rebecca were to be working with Desmond while he was in the Animus, Lucy was to check Manhattan's real-estate ads.

And check she did. She spent at least half an hour on different real-estate sights that had property listed solely in Manhattan.

"Found something." Lucy called out in the silence of their hideout. "There's an old abandoned chapel in Hell's Kitchen. It's cheap and close to the highway in case we have to make a quick escape."

Shaun looked up from his laptop and squinted his eyes at Lucy. He didn't look that impressed with her findings.

"What are the bank records, if there are any?" The Brit asked so softly that it was almost to the point that Lucy had to read his lips, as if he paranoid that Alex was listening to them right now. "If we can slip by the bank records, then I say we should go for it."

Lucy nodded and continued on her research on the chapel. Turns out, it hadn't been in service for four years. The priest of the church had been murdered in a mugging gone wrong, and the estate had then been transferred to a private family since then. However, the family couldn't afford to keep paying for the taxes, and were selling it considerably cheap. It had been on the market for several months now, and it looked like no one wanted to buy it anytime soon.

There was a number listed on the bottom of the real-estate site, and Lucy quickly wrote it down. She signaled to Shaun that she was going to make a call, and he started the program to make sure she wouldn't be traced. Lucy took out her cell phone and dialed the number.

Within a few rings, a female picked up.

"Manhattan West Side Real-Estate Agency, how may I assist you today?" A cheery woman's voice greeted Lucy.

"Yes, I'm interested in the listed property in Hell's Kitchen. The chapel, to be specific." Lucy stated, her voice stone cold. "I'd like to set up an appointment to check the property out. If I like what I see, I'll pay full price up front."

The woman on the other side of the line was not expecting Lucy's abrasiveness and it took her a second to recollect her thoughts. She mumbled something as she typed away at a computer, trying to find the place Lucy was talking about. Finally, after a couple impatient seconds, the woman found the chapel.

"You mean the place on 35th Street and 10th Ave?" The woman asked. She didn't wait for Lucy to respond, she just continued sputtering like an idiot. "I, uh, I can set an appointment for a time within the hour? I have a ten minute opening at 5:30? Does, uh, does that sound like a good idea, miss?"

"Sounds perfect. Meet me there." Lucy said before she hung up.

Lucy looked up at the clock, and noticed that she had half an hour to arrive at the chapel. She grabbed her coat and bid the other assassins adieu.

"Be careful out there, Luce." Rebecca said as she got her nose out of the computer screen. Her voice was somber and saddened, but she had a smirk on her face that proved otherwise. "We don't know how many eyes we have on us."

Lucy nodded and quickly exited.

As she left their safe house, she walked south, hoping to hail a taxi to take her across the Manhattan Island. When Lucy finally made her way to a busier street, a taxi pulled over and Lucy hopped into the back.

"35th and 10th Avenue, please." Lucy stated as she settled down in the cab.

"Aye, miss." The cab driver said in a thick foreign accent, nodding his head.

Just as the cab was beginning to pull away, the other back door opened and in came a familiar face. Lucy's skin crawled when she realized who it was that had just hopped into the cab, and she frowned at the man. Alex only devilishly smirked, and then he tugged his leather jacket closer to him. It was a human movement, but Lucy knew better.

"What do you want?" Lucy demanded as the cab driver hit the accelerator and shot down the busy street. Lucy reached for her bag that she brought, which contained a high voltage taser that she stole from Abstergo a while ago.

"Well, first of all, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Alex muttered, his ice cold blue eyes glancing from her motionless face to her bag. He had noticed the movement and had decided to warn her before she did something completely stupid. "And second, I saw you leave your little hiding place. That made me a little bit curious. Plus, we need to talk."

"Where I am going does not concern you." Lucy stated, a hint of steel in her voice. Clearly, she was not afraid to show the living bio-weapon her irritation. "Get out."

Alex chuckled darkly and looked out his window. As he looked at the world outside of the car, the cab was filled with unwanted silence. He watched as cars and trucks zoomed passed them until they hit a red light. Once they came to a full stop, he looked at Lucy again, he looked softer than before, as if he was changing tactics to get to the female assassin.

"I'm afraid that where you're going does concern me, Lucy. It is Lucy, right?" Alex waited for the woman to nod her head. She did so, and the virus continued. "I've been doing some research, among other things, and your goals are not that different from mine."

That deserved Alex a raised eyebrow from Lucy, along with a doubtful look. She still looked tempted to get her taser out, despite his warning from earlier.

"Then, what exactly, are your goals?" Lucy asked in a hushed voice, still trying to look unfazed by his presence. But she was afraid. What she was afraid of was what Ragland had warned them about. _"Don't let Alex get close."_ But that seemed to be what was happening right now.

She glanced at the cab driver, who seemed to be taking an interest in their tensed conversation. Alex acknowledged this and relaxed slightly; releasing some of the hostile feelings he still had for the blonde assassin. He slumped back into his seat and then pulled his hoodie further down his eyes, as if to hide from the world in plain sight.

Once the two were sure that the cabbie wasn't paying attention to them, Alex answered.

"My goals are to take down Gentek and anyone who works for them, make sure the people I still care about are safe, and consume everyone who made me the freak I am." Alex sated severely. Lucy looked at him, somewhat horrified with his response. She didn't even know what consuming was, but she could just imagine it. But he wasn't done yet. "I thought I took care of all three, but when you guys showed up, I realized I had a lot of work ahead of me."

Lucy gave him an incredulous look. "So you think you're just going to tag along with us?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Alex shrugged, and then nodded his head in agreement. He then gave Lucy as stiff look, and then she forced herself to remember that this man had killed countless numbers of people before now, and that he could do the same to her seamlessly. "Don't try to fight the fact that you're stuck with me. As long as we have the same goals, I'm staying."

Lucy perked up, and that confused Alex slightly.

"So, as soon as we're done with our mission, you'll leave us?" She asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

"Yes."

With a sigh, Lucy realized that there was nothing she could do in her power to deter the virus. The team of assassins was stuck with him for at least the rest of the year, but hopefully they'd find the Piece of Eden before then. He could be a big help, but from what Lucy knew, Alex could also be a loose cannon.

"Fine, but you're going to need to give me some answers. Now." Lucy ordered as she finally complied to the virus's demands.

Alex scowled but nodded his head in agreement. That was enough of an invitation for Lucy to start asking him questions. Questions boiled up in Lucy, but before she could pick the right one, one shot out of her like a bullet.

"What the hell are you?" Lucy whispered. "And why? How?"

Alex didn't look pleased that Lucy asked that question first. "I'm a genetically enhanced virus. A biological weapon of mass destruction designed by a team of Gentek scientists, headed by Alex Mercer."

"You made yourself this way?" Lucy asked incredulously.

"No." Alex stated. He let out a sigh, and it was as if he was releasing a wave of secrets. "Alex is just the skin sack I wear out of familiarity. Alex Mercer was a head scientist there, he created _me_. I'm a virus. My real name is DX-1118 C, or Zeus."

"And you won't harm or kill any of my friends and teammates?" Lucy asked, her voice a little less serious.

Alex almost scoffed at that. Why on earth would he harm the people that would help him take down an associate of Gentek? Not even that, he couldn't think about harming Rebecca after all that she had gone through. And the only reason Alex would hurt Desmond was because it would entertain him. Still, he wasn't going to tell the assassin that.

"Just give me my space and stay out of my way, and there won't be any bloodshed. At least not yours, anyways."

Finally, after much hesitation, Lucy stuck her hand out for Alex to shake. He took it, and the two seemed to make an agreement they knew they had already made the second Desmond and Alex had ran into each other. A forced agreement. His grip was too strong, and Lucy almost flinched under his power.

"Welcome to the Order." Lucy muttered, keeping her voice low. "How temporary that welcome is, we'll find out."

Alex smirked, finally pleased that he won over the assassin with his diplomatic charisma, which in reality was just a threat after another threat. He had gained approval of all assassins except from the Brit called Shaun, and he was sure he could . . . persuade him easily. Things were going smoothly for him, as he was sure he would have had to torture Lucy to convince her that he was a valuable asset.

"Now, you want to tell me where we're going?" Alex finally asked, his voice still like a dark growl.

"We're in need of a new base of operations. Abstergo probably has eyes on our old place, so we—"

"They don't, I checked the whole area out." Alex interrupted. "The only person watching you other than me is a nosy neighbor in the apartment complex across the street."

Lucy fell silent after his remark, she was too shocked that he had been keeping an eye on them. It shouldn't have shocked her; she knew that Alex would have kept an eye out on them. Lucy let out a small puff of air as the taxi finally pulled over.

"Still, a nosy neighbor can lead to a phone call to the police." Lucy muttered as she got out of the taxi and slammed the door. Alex followed suit and waited for her on the sidewalk, keeping his predatory like gaze on her. Lucy felt like she was being watched by a rabid lion. "A tapped police call can tip off Abstergo, and so on and so forth."

Lucy took the few steps to the looming chapel ahead of them, wary of Alex's gaze. He kept close to her, like a rash that she wanted to rid herself of. As she looked at the chapel, Alex looked noticed how condemned it appeared to be. He wasn't impressed, in fact he was never impressed, but Lucy was clearly content.

"Looks good on the outside." Lucy whispered, more to herself than to the virus. "It'll probably be perfect."

Alex wondered why any normal human would think that this is a perfect place to inhabit, but then he remembered that his new friends were far from normal. Maybe they were borderline crazy with their ancient cult beliefs, but Alex didn't care if that meant getting to the bottom of Abstergo and others associated with Gentek.

"Then let's take a look inside." Alex suggested as he headed down the sidewalk.

Lucy watched him as he made his way to the large front doors. As Alex started to see if the doors were locked or not, Lucy looked at her watch to check the time. With a grumble from Alex, Lucy knew that the door was bolted shut from the inside. Lucy shoved him aside, which gave her a well deserved low, rumbling growl as a warning of 'personal space'. She acknowledged this, but looked at the piece of paper posted on the door that Alex had managed to miss.

"There's another door in the back, maybe we should try there instead?" Lucy pointed out to Alex, her voice still slightly antagonistic towards him.

Lucy didn't wait for an answer. She left Alex at the front entrance and found her way to the said door in the back. It looked like a thick steeled door, bolted closed with a heavy combination lock hanging on the side. Lucy tried to pick it up, but found it too heavy.

"Looks like it's locked." A deep voice said right behind Lucy. Lucy jumped and turned to see that Alex had been hovering over her like a gnat. He looked slightly surprised by her initial jump and then took a half-step back. "Sorry."

"Let's just make a deal to give each other space, okay?" Lucy asked, breathing heavier than before. Alex thought for a long second before nodding in agreement. The two took a couple steps away from each other before deciding that it was far enough. Lucy looked at the lock again, and then at her watch. "We're going to have to wait until the real-estate agent arrives."

However, Alex wasn't a patient person. He took the lock in one hand and yanked it off in one swift movement, snapping the hard metal in half as if it was made out of ice. Lucy watched, dumbstruck, as Alex tossed the mangled lock to the side, right into an open dumpster. The heavy metal clanged against the dumpster's empty bottom, and it rung in Lucy's ears indefinitely. Without giving his action a second thought, Alex opened the now unlocked door and disappeared inside.

Lucy was held into place, fixated on what she had just witnessed. She knew what the virus could do, and yet this still shocked her. But what she wondered was why Alex had chosen to align with them. Surely he had enough raw power to take down Abstergo by himself? But instead, he wanted the help of the assassins. What did he have in plan for them?

Lucy remained there for a second, oblivious to the world around her. It was only when Alex's head peeked around the door did her brain reconnect with her body. When she finally noticed that Alex was waiting for her, he had an incredibly impatient look on his face.

"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" Alex asked, his voice like gravel.

Lucy scowled and hurried inside. She was greeted by low hanging cobwebs and the scurrying of rodents. She jumped at first, but then regained her posture quickly, but not quick enough for Alex not to notice. He let out a little snicker, which only got on the assassin's nerves more so.

She then decided to look around the room. Like most chapels, it was high ceilinged, had great perch ways, and to her delight, had a rickety boardwalk for Desmond to test his assassin skills out. There was also enough space to set up the Animus and the other work stations. She wandered around, ignoring Alex's questioning glances as she stopped to look at what he assumed to be the weirdest things to look at.

It was only when she was on her knees and looking at the old floorboards underneath a dusty pew did he decide to speak up.

"Care to tell me what's so interesting?" Alex voice echoed off of the chapel's tall walls.

Lucy looked up, her eyes full of surprise, happy surprise. She got up and tried to push the pew out of the way. It got stuck on the wooden floor, and Alex sighed. He grabbed the pew for her and placed it behind them softly, which was yet another display of his sheer power. Once the pew was out of the way, Alex could see what had gotten Lucy's attention.

"Do you know what that is?" Lucy asked, her question sounding almost rhetorical.

She was pointing to the symbol on the wooden floorboards, which was barely a shade darker than the wood itself. It would have been invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for it. Even then, Alex wondered how Lucy could see it; her human eyesight wasn't as pristine as his, not by a long shot. It was small too, barely larger than Lucy's foot.

It looked like an isosceles triangle, but the base angles of the triangle were sticking out at three odd points, stretching out the ends. One point on each base curved towards the other one, forming cone like lines, but they did not touch. It was like an oddly shaped _A_, but it hadn't been finished correctly. There looked to be part of a curved line underneath the unformed triangle too, giving the whole symbol an ancient feeling.

"No. Is it important?" Alex asked, raising a thick eyebrow at the female assassin.

Lucy nodded her head. She looked like she was trembling with relief instead of the usual terror. It took her a couple seconds to find her voice again.

"It's the insignia of the Assassin Order." Lucy whispered. "It was one of the only ways to distinguish assassins from Templars or innocents back in the ancient times. This place must be a forgotten bureau, or maybe even a sanctuary. I wonder how old this place is . . ."

Alex looked at a plaque on the wall, which was covered in grime and other filth. He went over to it and wiped it clean with one of his jacket's sleeves.

"It says here that the chapel was erected in 1892." Alex muttered, and then glanced at Lucy to see that she was nodding in agreement. "It was built over the remains of another."

"No doubt about it now, we're definitely camping up here." Lucy said as she grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket. She dialed in a phone number, and then started speaking to the female real-estate agent. Alex ignored the conversation and just continued to stare at the Assassin insignia in front of him. It baffled him, and he had no idea why. It was only when he noticed Lucy was done talking on her cell phone did he take his ice blue eyes off of the floor. "The deal's been done. I should get back to the others now; you can come with me, _if you want_."

It was still clear that Lucy still had cold feelings for Alex, despite the openness she had had for most of their time together. He knew that Lucy didn't want him to follow her, but now that Alex had made his decision clear, she was forced to invite him. They both knew this, and Alex snickered a bit at her aggravation.

"I'll meet you there. I'm not really one for cars." Alex shuddered at the memory of being in such a small space with the sound of two beating hearts at such a close proximity. He was good about controlling his instincts, but he wasn't _that_ good. "Besides, I need to stretch my legs."


	14. Moving In

By the time Lucy's taxi had pulled up to the assassin's current safe house, Alex had been chillin' down by the front door for over ten minutes. Gliding above rooftops saved massive amounts of time, and Alex enjoyed Lucy's initial surprise to see him when she hopped out of the taxi. But then Lucy just gave him a stiff look as she fixed her jacket and came over to the front door. She unlocked it and hurried inside, Alex following right behind her like her shadow. The two climbed the stairs silently, much unlike earlier that day when Alex was carrying Rebecca up with Desmond.

As the two reached the right floor, Lucy turned to look at Alex. She still looked unconvinced that he wasn't here to kill everyone. But with a sigh, she shoved away her instincts, against her better judgment, and stared into Alex's deadly cold eyes.

"One false move, and the deal's broken. If you ever try to lay a hand on any of them, or even if I think you are, you're out of here and you won't ever see us again." Lucy threatened the virus, once again risking her neck foolishly. "Trust me. I'll make sure of it."

Alex scoffed at her darkly. "I don't think you're in the position to threaten me, Lucy."

"Maybe, maybe not." Lucy said, her expression hardening more so. "But I know some people who I believe would be happy to help us out if something ever went out." That seemed to stupefy Alex, and he gave the female assassin a questioning look. "I've been doing some side research without the others knowing. _Blackwatch_, huh?"

A second passed, and it was so quiet that Lucy would have been able to hear a pin drop.

Alex really had to control himself before he moved to snap Lucy's head right off. Still, his body seemed to shudder in a mixture of nausea, terror, and sheer anger. He could feel his lips curl up subconsciously into a snarl, baring his teeth like an animal. He even heard a low rumble that quickly turned into a loud roar. At that point, Alex couldn't consider himself human-like.

The last thing Alex wanted was to get Blackwatch involved again after years of staying under the radar. Blackwatch would easily track down Dana and Ragland to get to him, and that was too much of a risk.

"You wouldn't." Alex said, his voice soft but still menacing. Alex's hard protective shield of self-confidence had been shattered by a human. His hands tightened up into fists, but remained by his sides. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"I would, _if_ you put us into any unnecessary danger. Don't give me a reason to, and we'll be fine." Lucy said, finally noticing that she had gained the upper hand. She was a little smug about that fact too. As she turned to unlock the door into the safe house, the same door that Alex had broken down earlier, Lucy found herself happy with haughtiness. "I've called the others beforehand, so they should be expecting _both_ of us."

Alex quickly tried to compose himself, but he was still livid from Lucy's threats. Alex somehow managed to cool his trembling body down, but he still had a deep scowl splattered on his face that clearly showed how ticked off he was. Lucy opened the door, and the two of them were introduced to a mess.

The other assassins had gotten a call from Lucy, that was true. Lucy had told them not only that Alex had joined them in their endeavors, despite the unwelcomed feelings they all shared, but that it was time to pack up. Shaun and Desmond were frantically packing up the computers and important paper files, Rebecca wheeling right behind them, ordering the men about. They didn't notice the two's entrance until, Alex spoke up.

"What the hell is going on?" Alex asked, his voice like a shot from a canon in a quiet night.

Even with Lucy's warning, both Shaun and Desmond flinched at Alex's naturally harsh voice. Shaun practically jumped out of his skin, but Desmond only turned to look at the virus. As Shaun recollected his composure, Desmond answered Alex.

"Packing. We need to get out of here before midnight." Desmond stated as he nudged Shaun. Shaun snapped back into reality and the two picked up a small filing system. The two carried it to what appeared to be an old elevator and then placed it into the elevator. "Regulation standards, I guess. The Order needs to make sure we actually arrive to our new base. Instead of, you know, disappearing."

"Yeah, and if we don't, Desmond's father will freak out." Rebecca said as she wheeled over towards where Alex was standing like an idiot. She smiled at the virus, and then stuck her hand out. "Never had the chance to thank you, Alex. I'd probably be dead in the middle of that street right now."

Alex didn't hesitate to take Rebecca's hand and give it a soft squeeze, showing again that he appreciated the woman's kindness. "Nice to see that Ragland patched you up. I'll have to thank him sometime soon."

With that, Alex decided that he should make himself useful and helped the assassins pack the remaining objects into the elevator. The assassins left the amenities like the cots and the couch that went with the place, but they took the television, knowing it would be a smart idea to keep up with the news.

The work went a lot faster now that there was an extra set of hands to pick up the slack. Soon, all that was left to be packed up was the Animus, and that would be difficult.

"Rebecca, where did you put the wheels for the Animus?" Lucy asked the woman in the wheel chair as she wiped some sweat off of her forehead.

"Don't look at me, Luce. Shaun was the last one to use the wheels." Rebecca stated as she positioned herself in the elevator, waiting for someone to take the load down into the white van. Shaun looked at Rebecca, exasperated, but Rebecca just gave him a questioning look. "Hey, what did you want Baby's wheels for anyways?"

"I never asked to use the bloody wheels." Shaun frowned. He fixed his glasses and then entered the elevator. He pushed the button, and the two's argument could be heard all the way down to the garage floor.

Desmond and Lucy shared a glance, and then gave an unsteady look at Alex, who was completely lost. Without the wheels, the Animus was impossible to move. Even with Baby being a lighter version than the Animus in Abstergo Industries, it still weighed a ton. Even with the wheels, Baby took forever to load into the van. They had to find the wheels if they were going to meet the deadline.

Without sharing words, Desmond went into his room and searched for the wheels while Lucy went into her shared room with Rebecca. Alex just watched them, confused. No one had told him that the machine that had caught his curiosity was the Animus. Now that he was alone, Alex examined the Animus, running his left hand across the smooth trim.

However, when he felt the assassins watching him with hard eyes, he stopped and retreated back. Once he was in the furthest corner away from the assassins, Alex looked up to see that they were empty handed. The wheels to the Animus were nowhere to be found. Lucy let out a sigh and sat down on the dusty old couch.

"I better go call Shaun. If we can't move the Animus, then we're stuck here." Lucy said as she took her cell phone out of her pocket.

It was then that Alex decided to speak up.

"You know, I think I can take it." Alex muttered as he went over. He bent down and easily picked up the heavy machine and waited for the others for a sign of approval. The assassins just stared at him. Both Desmond and Lucy knew that Alex was strong and powerful, they had witnessed it several occasions. But it still blew their minds that he could pick up things like the Animus with such ease. "So are we leaving or what?"

"Uh, sure. Let's get going." Lucy said after a faint pause. Lucy thought for a second before she put her phone back away. She got up and opened the door to the stairwell. She and Desmond looked up at Alex, and he stepped forward, the Animus still in his capable hands. "Can you carry that down the stairs without damaging it?"

Alex just stared at Lucy. "I can carry this thing all around New York without getting a scratch on it."

With that, the assassins and Alex left the safe house. Desmond locked it up, and then followed Lucy into the front of the White Van. Alex deftly placed the Animus in the back of the van, where Rebecca was waiting for it and him. Once the machine was inside, Rebecca strapped it down and then motioned for the virus to sit down next to her.

"I'll catch up with you there." Alex muttered to her. "I don't do well with small places."

"'Kay, see ya later, Alex." The computer techie said with a grin as she gave the virus a thumbs up.

Alex closed the back of the van, and Shaun floored the gas. Alex remained where he stood and watched the van travel down towards Hell's Kitchen. As soon as the van was out of his sight, Alex jumped to the roof's top. Once there, the virus started to glide into the interior of Manhattan, cutting through the overpopulated middle section. He wasn't going in any particular direction, just away from the assassins' old place.

Finally, Alex directed his gliding path down towards Hell's Kitchen. As Alex glided between buildings towards the chapel, he kept his eyes on the traffic down below. Soon, he spotted a familiar van that had been stuck behind a large construction project. Alex smirked as he directed himself to the top of a nearby building, his eyes glued to the van the whole time. When the assassins' van finally pulled forward, Alex moved again.

This continued for some time. The van would stop at a red light, and then Alex would wait for them. It was rather irritating, but Alex wanted to make sure they didn't do any funny business with him not around. Call it trust issues. He only advanced ahead of them when the chapel was in his sight.

Alex landed in the alley behind the chapel just as the assassins were pulling in. They witnessed his stunt, and Shaun prematurely stepped on the brakes. The van came to a halt, jerking the people inside of it viciously. Alex motioned for them to come forward, and the van slowly crept forward. Once Shaun was at the end of the back alley, he shut off the van, and the assassins exited the van like a Chinese fire drill.

"Come on, boys, let's move." Lucy ordered, clapping her hands, claiming authority over the group. "Get the stuff in the place, ASAP. The more time we're outside, the more we risk losing our position."

Shaun and Desmond grumbled as they helped Rebecca out of the back and then started to take out all the mechanical components for the Animus and the computers. Alex waited for them to clear the way out for him before he picked up the Animus again. Once everyone was inside, dropping off the first of many loads, Alex grabbed the Animus and put it over his shoulder and entered the chapel.

"Where do you want it?" Alex glumly asked as he looked over at Rebecca, who was wheeling around and through the ancient pews, directing Desmond where to put the smaller machines for later use.

Rebecca looked up at Alex. "Just put it down in front of the altar. We can leave it there while unpacking the rest of the stuff that we need."

"Since when is it 'we'? Shaun and I are the only ones doing the heavy lifting." Desmond grumbled as he set down Shaun's desk and laptop.

"Shut up, Des." Rebecca said teasingly as she wheeled out of the others way and into the back of the ancient chapel. She motioned for Alex to follow her, and he did so. Rebecca twisted her head around to look at the hooded man right behind her. "Thanks for the help, bud, I really appreciate it. But could you do something else for me, please?"

Although he was a little hesitant at first, Alex nodded his head in agreement.

"I kinda need someone to remove the pews if we're going to have enough room for our later plans. Our old place had a gigantic parking garage under it, and that's what we were planning to use. But since we moved, we need to find an alternative." Rebecca informed as she knocked on a couple pews with her right fist. And then, rather dramatically, Rebecca motioned to the high ceilings of the Chapel. "And this place is a great alternative."

Alex had no idea what the assassins were planning and why Rebecca wanted the pews removed, but he didn't say anything as he grabbed a pew and went outside. The sound of ripping and crackling wood filled the room, and the four assassins paused in their work and listened to Alex destroying the object with his bare hands, or claws. They didn't which one for sure.

After the noise finally stopped, Alex walked in, dusting a few wood chippings off his shoulder. The assassins kept their eyes on him, but he just shrugged them off.

"One down, fifteen more to go." Alex jokingly stated to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. But the assassins heard it, and the virus got a couple smirks.

* * *

Once the place was cleared out, and everything in its respected place, the group finally stopped and looked at their work. With the pews gone, and destroyed with no evidence other than wood chippings in a dumpster, the place seemed eerily empty and haunted. The only sources of light now in the dark night came from the computer screens and a few camping lanterns Lucy had been smart enough to bring.

The five of them stood in the middle of the Chapel, admiring their work, however, Alex stood a bit away from the assassins, still not comfortable around them. They just stood there, silent. There was no need to share any words between themselves. All five understood that it had been a long stretch of hard days, and for most of them, it was time to rest.

"We'll explore the place tomorrow, when we're fully rested and refreshed." Lucy stated as she turned to face the assassins and Alex.

Shaun let out a small groan, rubbing his forehead roughly with disappointment, but complied. He was actually very interested in how and why this was a forgotten Assassin refuge, more interested than the others, and he had been spewing out hypotheses about the place while they had been unpacking.

"Hope you guys don't mind sleeping in the same room." Lucy said as she pulled out four sleeping bags from under her desk. She tossed one to Desmond and then another to Shaun before getting down on her knees and unrolling one for herself. "We were lucky that our last place actually had rooms with cots. Now it's time to see how the other half lives."

"Hey, I don't mind it." Desmond muttered as he readied his own bed. "But I'm not so sure that Shaun will be fine. Sleeping Beauty needs to make sure his sleeping schedule is perfect."

"Don't be daft, Desmond. We've gone through harder scenarios before Lucy even rescued you." Shaun snapped as he started walking away from the group and found a comfy corner to settle down at. He didn't like it when Desmond cracked jokes about him, or anyone else for that matter. "Once you've experienced sleeping on a whimsy tree branch in the dead of winter, then we can talk about my sleeping habits like sophisticated men."

Desmond grumbled something to himself, clearly mocking Shaun while using his hand as a puppet, and then took off his shoes. He set his shoes down and then crawled into the sleeping bag. It was only a matter of seconds before he started to fall into a deep sleep. Snores going along with him.

"Hey, what about me, Luce?" Rebecca asked. "Where's my bag?"

"You, are sleeping on the Animus until your legs get better." Lucy ordered. "It's the most comfortable thing we have to rest on, and you need to get better as quick as possible."

"Sounds like a good idea, so then Alex can have my sleeping bag. That is, until we can get him one, right?" Rebecca asked as she wheeled over to her Baby.

"I don't sleep." Alex stated. It was the first time he spoke since the group had finished packing. He had somehow melted into the background, making the assassins forget that he was with them at all. Alex didn't mind it; it gave him time to observe his newfound friends without a disturbance.

Lucy looked at him for a second. And then it looked like a light bulb went off over her head as she made a quick decision. She smirked, and Alex didn't know whether that was a good smirk or a bad one.

"Good, so you can take the first shift." Lucy stated as she helped the other woman out of the wheelchair and gently placed her down into the Animus. Lucy took out a thermal blanket from a box and put it on top of Rebecca before returning her hard eyes on the virus in front of her. "Wake me up at three, and I'll watch for any movement for the rest of the night."

Alex shrugged. "Fair trade."

With that, Alex jumped to the balcony in one swift motion. Lucy kept her eyes on him until Alex sat down on the edge, his legs hanging from the balcony. She waved him off, deciding to ignore him and the creepy idea of Alex watching them sleep for most of the night. But even when she slipped into her sleeping bag, the lights almost turned completely out, she could feel his ice blue eyes boring holes into her back.

"_Guess I deserve it."_ Lucy thought to herself as she started slipping into unconsciousness._ "I did threaten him after all. That probably wasn't the smartest move on my part . . ."_


	15. Watch Duty

Alex was incapable of sleeping, just another one of the perks of being a virus. His body rejuvenated on a regular basis, and Alex never tired, so there was no need to sleep. However, Alex had discovered a few months after the Outbreak that he was able of shutting everything but his mind off when he was bored enough at times. This was one of those times.

It wasn't sleep per say, but it was just the closest Alex could get to it, and to dreaming. With his body turned off, his stolen memories were allowed to stream to his attention one at a time, like a film at a cinema. Although some of those memories were his victim's last thoughts and residual feelings, Alex was content that most of the time when he did this they were peaceful childhood memories.

After he was sure that all of the assassins were asleep, Alex soon found himself trying to tune everything out. After a few minutes, the memories started to come, and Alex began to watch them as if he were the only person in a movie theatre, and he had a seat in the front row. The current memory that was displayed was about some kid's trip out in the wilderness, where he had first learned how to fish with his father.

Although enjoyable at first, Alex grew irritated and shrugged the memory off. He still couldn't remember his childhood memories, or rather the original Alex's. He could never experience that level of happiness or innocence that that victim had at that age. In a way, Alex was jealous, and the only way to deal with that was coming back to reality.

Alex quickly came to, and when he did, he noticed that Shaun was absent from his sleeping area. The virus didn't have to exert any energy to look for the Brit, though, because he was at his desk, typing away at a computer feverishly. The light from the screen reflected off of his glasses, and Alex couldn't read the man's expression.

Alex got up from the place where he was resting and then jumped down from the balcony ever so quietly. He made his way over to Shaun, curious in what the man was doing. The Brit didn't even notice the virus's proximity and just continued to type away at something. It only took a moment of looking over the man's shoulder for Alex to see that it was an E-mail.

For quite some time, Alex watched the letter unfold into a long and detailed description of today. Alex had forgotten how long this day was, and was amazed to find that Shaun could remember so much so vividly. He smirked at some of Shaun's snarky remarks and found the whole thing quite amusing from this perspective.

By the time that Shaun was talking about Alex joining the assassins in their endeavors, the Brit finally noticed that someone was behind him.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Desmond?" Shaun said with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his temples as he quickly saved what was written in the E-mail. "Don't look over my shoulder while I'm working, you moron."

"Now hey, that wasn't nice." Alex said, his voice a low grumble in Shaun's left ear as he bent down to read the E-mail. "I'm smarter than I look."

Shaun jumped at Alex's voice, knocking his head into Alex's chin. The Brit let out a noise of pain and started to rub the area where they had made contact. Shaun set his glasses down on his desk, hoping that he wouldn't or hadn't broken them. Alex just watched with cold amusement; their contact didn't hurt him at all.

"Bloody hell!" Shaun muttered silently as he wheeled his chair away from Alex, hoping to gain some distance from what he considered a madman. Shaun gave Alex a sharp look, his eyes squinted almost together. He looked furious, but a bit terrified at the same time. "Don't do that again!"

Alex was silent for a fraction of a second. And then the virus started to take a small step back. ". . . Sorry about that."

"Christ!" Shaun muttered quietly to himself as he returned back to his computer.

And then Shaun desperately tried to ignore the man who was still beside him. Shaun sighed again as he started typing the letter again from where he left off. Alex stayed close to the Brit, still curious as to why he was creating an E-mail about today's events. Alex didn't even catch himself as he crept closer to the screen for a second time. However, this time, Shaun knew that he was there.

"Do you mind?" Shaun finally asked, fed up with Alex's obliviousness to his personal space. "This is kind of personal."

Alex plainly ignored Shaun and asked his own questions. He was both curious, and a little bit suspicious as to why Shaun would include him in these events. The last thing he wanted was Blackwatch getting their greedy hands on any information on him. "What is this for?"

"This is for the head of the Assassin Order. The Mentor, respectively." Shaun stated as he fixed his glasses. This newfound information confused Alex slightly, and he motioned for Shaun to tell him more. Shaun paused in his typing and gave his full attention to the other man. "We, the Assassin Order, are in trouble, Alex. We're being hunted and our numbers are thinning out rather drastically. There's not many of us left. The Mentor likes to keep an eye out on us, making sure we're making progress and that everybody's alright. For obvious reasons, of course."

Shaun muttered the last bit quietly, hoping that Alex couldn't hear it. But with Alex's enhanced senses, he did.

"Well, it's not obvious to me." Alex said as he pulled a nearby chair closer to sit next to the Brit.

Finally, it dawned on Shaun. "Oh yes, you don't know. Tell me, Alex, how much do you know about Desmond?"

"I know that his family line runs through the Assassin Order. I know he grew up on some kind of Farm and that he was captured by Abstergo for some reason. I know he has a knife strapped to his arm for some reason because it's part of what you guys do. That's pretty much it."

Shaun blinked in surprise.

"Wow, you really don't know much about us then." Shaun muttered, giving Alex a long, hard stare. Alex gave him a look that obviously meant for Shaun to fill him in, and Shaun didn't hesitate to do that. "We'll fill you in over time, but there's more to Desmond that meets the eye. The genetic structure that_ is_ Desmond Miles is incredible, despite him being a complete pinhead. Everything that makes up Desmond genetically, we are using that to help fight this war. He is literally the key to our success."

"If you're talking about genetic and biological warfare, you're talking to the right guy." Alex said in his low voice, interrupting Shaun. "But you're still not making that much sense."

"You're thinking about it in the wrong way, Alex. You're thinking about it as a Weapon of Mass Destruction. Desmond is clearly not a Weapon of Mass Destruction." Shaun said, giving a glance at Desmond when he let out a large snore. "Desmond's basically a library. He's a gateway to a plethora of knowledge, of experience . . . of memories. You see, with our technology, we have access to all of his ancestor's memories."

"So Abstergo was not really after Desmond, but after—"

"His ancestor's memories, correct. Desmond's ancestors had a significant impact on history, mind you, and his genes contain their memories and stories. With their memories, the Templars can win this war and take over the world. We can't allow that to happen."

Alex paused to think about what Shaun had just told him. So that was what the Animus was, and why it was so important to the assassins. But Alex's thoughts were more focused about last night when he and Desmond were hiding out in the condemned building.

"So . . . Altaїr wasn't a second personality. It was one of his ancestors." Alex muttered to himself, but had caught Shaun giving him a look of awe. "What?"

"You . . . you met Altaїr while he was possessing Desmond's body?" Shaun asked, his face splattered with amazement. "That's, well, that's extraordinary! Well, it's also extremely dangerous, but extraordinary nonetheless. Tell me, what was he like?"

"Well, he tried to kill me." Alex stated in his gravel like voice.

Shaun nodded, "That's understandable. He probably saw you as an enemy and tried to eliminate you. Altaїr was one to do that. Here, let me show you some of Altaїr's memories that Lucy recorded a while ago back when she was mole."

Shaun swiveled around and faced his laptop. Alex watched as the Brit typed away, trying to find the right file on the computer. Alex moved his chair closer to the computer, and kept his eyes glued to the screen. Shaun frowned as he began to dig deeper into the important files.

"Ah, here is one." Shaun muttered and clicked on it.

The video started, and Shaun clicked it to become full screen. The world on the computer was drastically different, and Alex placed a wild guess as somewhere in the Middle East. A man in a white robe was walking down a crowded city in the shadows, softly pushing people out of his way. Even Alex could guess that the man that they were watching was Altaїr.

Alex didn't blink as he watched the recorded memory. He didn't want to miss anything. Altaїr looked like he was on a mission, and that interested the virus. Altaїr walked to a more crowded area in the unnamed city, heading towards what appeared to be the marketplace, where street venders and beggars continuously bugged the shrouded man. The assassin shrugged them off, heading towards a general direction.

Finally, Altaїr stopped at what looked to be a rally of some man holding a speech to a group of strangers. The assassin kept to the outer edge of the group listening, letting the shadows of the falling day cover him. Alex didn't pay attention to what the man was saying; he was only interested in what Altaїr was doing when he heard the familiar sound of a hidden blade extending.

Before Alex could comprehend what was happening, which happened to be a first, Desmond's ancestor shot forward, lunging at the speaker with the hidden blade ready.

The kill was clean and unexpected, and had caught everyone off guard. And before everyone could react correctly, Altaїr was up and running down a deserted back alley. Finally, some nearby guards had recovered and started shouting at him.

"Assassin!" One shouted, and then was followed by others.

Altaїr kept on moving, but this time, he started heading up towards the roofs. The only way Alex could describe it was watching a monkey scramble up a tree with a wild pack of dogs at its heels. Altaїr climbed up the sides of the wall, using each crevice around him to help him support his weight. The guards watched the assassin move in awe for a second before clamoring to the nearest ladder. But by the time they had arrived at the roof, Altaїr was already rooftops away.

But that didn't stop the guards, who were now wielding swords and sprinting after the white hooded man. Slowly but surely, they were gaining ground. Soon, Altair ran out of rooftop, and almost fell to his death, but quickly scrambled away. It was then that the guards caught up, and they were quick to point the tips of their swords at Altaїr.

"Surrender, Assassin, and your death will be quick." The head guard ordered the white hooded man, his fellow men agreeing like baboons.

Altair slowly turned around, and that was when Alex caught an almost unnoticeable, cocky smirk on the Syrian's face.

The assassin moved quickly, almost too quickly for a human. He grabbed what looked like a small sword from a sheath on his back and quickly slashed a man's neck with deadly accuracy. The man fell as others started to react, and Altaїr took that to his advantage. By the time most of the soldiers were prepared for an intense fight, two others lay dead on the roof.

It was then that Altaїr changed tactics. Instead of being on the offensive, the assassin switched to a defensive position. He then started to patiently wait for the soldiers to strike, and when they did, he used their own attacks against them. Soon, the only soldier that was left alive was the leader, and he was completely at the mercy of Altaїr, who had his sword on the man's throat.

"Do it, assassin! Do it, and there'll only be more of us to take my place." The leader said as he spat at Altaїr. "You're attempts are futile."

"Silence." Altaїr ordered in a strong, confident voice. This voice startled Alex, as it was the same voice that had spoken to him, although not in Arabic. It was confident. Strong and powerful. It was not Desmond's voice, but still reminded the virus of the sleeping man right next to him. "I will spare you, but only because I need you to deliver a message to your master. Run back to your master and tell him that his time of tyranny is close to the end, and that the people of Damascus will soon be free from his iron grip."

Altaїr pulled his sword away from the man's throat and then put it back in its sheath. The assassin turned around, allowing for the soldier to pick himself up and glare at his back. Alex watched as the soldier picked up a sword from the ground and then lunged at Altaїr.

However, much to Alex's surprise, Altaїr jumped out of the way, which was straight off of the roof. Alex watched, almost jumping up from his seat but only rising a couple inches from the chair. He caught himself and quickly forced himself back into his chair. But still, his eyes widened with surprise. He was literally shocked that a man like Altaїr would commit suicide like that. But Shaun grabbed Alex's arm and then pointed to the screen to tell him to continue watching. Alex frowned, but returned his attention to the Middle Eastern assassin.

And that's when he saw it. There was a hay stack down below on the busy street. Altaїr was heading straight towards it, flipping in midair so he would land in the hay on his back. Alex still wasn't convinced; he thought that only he could survive a fall from that height. However, he was proven wrong when Altaїr landed and immediately got out of the hay. By the time the soldier peered over the rooftop, the assassin was down the street, invisible in a sea of people.

Shaun paused the video and then looked up at Alex, who was speechless.

"That's just a small part of what we've seen through this man's memories. And he's not the only assassin whose memories we're digging around." Shaun stated, but had yawned halfway through. "And it's not just that, Alex. We're also trying to teach Desmond these moves by osmosis through the Animus. If it works, then we might just actually win this war with the Templars."

Alex didn't respond, he was replaying what he had just seen through his mind. It was simply amazing, and that was an understatement. Alex had never seen a human move that way before, not even Cross. He was zoning out, and he didn't notice Shaun finish up his E-mail and shut his laptop off. When Alex finally did, Shaun was in his sleeping bag.

"Goodnight, Alex." Shaun stated, sounding only slightly irritated for some reason. "See you in the morning."

And with that, Shaun shut off the camping lantern at his side, leaving Alex in the darkness.

* * *

It was a bit after two in the morning when something else caught Alex's attention.

Alex heard Desmond moan in his sleep, and he instantly perked up. From his past experience, a moaning Desmond would lead to an unwanted fight from one of his other personalities. Or rather, one of his ancestors. He watched from up in the balcony, his eyes seeing perfectly in the pitch dark, as Desmond slowly picked himself out of the sleeping bag. Alex kept his eyes on his face, and he was almost surprised to find Desmond's brown eyes once again replaced with golden ones.

Desmond moved swiftly, despite just awakening from a deep sleep, and headed towards the center of the chapel. He was mumbling as he moved, like he was talking to a group of people that Alex was incapable of seeing, and Desmond even reacted as if he was having an argument, waving someone off with one of his hands.

Alex slowly found his way down to the ground, keeping a safe enough distance from the possessed Desmond. He was now close enough to notice that Desmond was not speaking a foreign language but English, although in a different accent. Alex frowned as he thought, wondering which ancestor had the reigns of Desmond's mind at the moment.

Desmond stopped arguing, brushing away whoever imaginary person he had been arguing with. He walked forward, looking down at the ground while doing so. It was obvious to Alex that he was searching for something, and Alex remembered the Assassin Insignia that he and Lucy found while checking the place out.

The assassin seemed to have found it in the pitch dark, and examined it. After Alex thought that that was all the assassin was going to do, Desmond turned around and headed towards the alter. Alex followed him, keeping a safe distance while doing so. He watched as Desmond stopped and observed the dusty metallic cross nailed up above.

"I know where it is, George." Desmond muttered loud enough for Alex to make it out.

Suddenly, Desmond jumped up onto the cross and scrambled up just like Alex saw Altaїr do in the video. Once Desmond was at the top of the cross, he extended his hidden blade and stabbed an area between the rock slabs. Alex questioned what he was doing, but when the virus noticed part of a wall collapse behind him, he knew that Desmond knew exactly what he was doing.

And then the possessed assassin jumped back down to the ground, landing with a large_ thud_. Alex frowned; he was sure that one of the other assassins must have woken up from the sound. But Desmond didn't notice his indiscreetness as he just walked to the collapsed wall, ignoring a confused Alex as if he wasn't even there. Desmond didn't even say anything as Alex followed close behind him, his curiosity getting the better of him once again.

"This way." Desmond muttered as he looked at Alex, motioning for him to come forward. Alex froze for a second, startled. Desmond noticed this and stopped, giving Alex a cold, hard stare. Desmond was serious; he wasn't just talking to a ghost or something, he was now talking to Alex. "I'm trusting you with information that you mustn't tell anyone about, George. You must take this to your grave."

"_I guess I'm George in this guy's eyes." _Alex thought. "I swear over my life that I will not tell another soul."

"Very well." Desmond said, nodding in approval.

Desmond climbed into the collapsed part, and that's when Alex realized that there was a secret passage that had been concealed from both inside the chapel and the outside. Alex watched as the other man reached out into the darkness and plucked out a torch that must have been hanging on the wall. The assassin swiped it against the wall, and it lit up like a match.

There was a staircase, and the possessed Desmond didn't hesitate to walk down the ancient floorboards. However, Alex paused. The stench of death reached his senses, and for the first time in his viral life, Alex did not want to investigate where the stench was originating from. He waited until Desmond stopped and gave him anther expecting look. Apparently, Desmond wanted "George" to follow him no matter what.

"Alright, I'm coming." Alex sighed, not liking the way this was going.

Desmond smiled faintly, his eyes softening with it. It wasn't the kind of smile Desmond would give to the virus. It was one of camaraderie, and no one had even given Alex a smile like that. Not since Dana was still with him. But for some reason, it reminded Alex of Cross, even though Cross would never smile like that. Alex was sure that Cross was incapable of smiling like that.

Desmond turned around and went down the staircase, a bubble of light surrounding him. Alex let out a heavy sigh and began to head down, but he stopped when a hand grabbed his wrist. Alex quickly repressed the urge to tear off whoever's arm that was holding him and looked to see Lucy by his side, her eyes cold and serious.

"I told you to wake me for the next shift." Lucy said as she pulled Alex out of the passageway and back into the chapel. Lucy glanced down at Desmond and then let out a worried sigh as she rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "Leave him, I'll keep an eye out for him."

Alex frowned. "But Desmond—"

"There's nothing you can do for him when he's like this. Trust me, I've tried." Lucy muttered, but it was more to herself than it was to Alex. She looked at the disappearing light down the stairs and Desmond's retreating outline. He turned around the corner and then was out of sight. "My only concern for him now is which ancestor is controlling Desmond. Don't give me that look; I heard you and Shaun talking earlier."

"So, this isn't an ancestor that you guys know about?"

Lucy stiffly nodded her head. "No, we've only explored the memories of two, and this is neither Altaїr nor Ezio Auditore. This place must have been important to one of his other ancestor's, awakening his memories through the Bleeding Effect. I'll have to discuss this with Rebecca in the morning."

"Yeah, but who's George?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Just a quick little note from me: Thank you so much guys for all the reviews (despite me not really replying much to them, sorry), the fav's, and the follows. I love to know that you guys actually like this, and to know that I'm doing _something_ right. Your support really does help motivate me, as I'm in a little of a writer's rut at the moment, and I get really excited to hear your opinions and the such.

So, I just have to say thank you.


	16. Connected Rooks

Desmond had woken up with his face practically glued to an ancient wooden desk. He had been breathing stale, dusty air for who knows how long. And as soon as he had awoken, the assassin started to sneeze continuously until it hurt. Desmond looked around while sneezing and noticed that he was no longer in the chapel with the others, but what looked like an ancient study. There were a couple of book cases, which were stacked full with musty old books that had probably never seen the light.

Speaking of light, the only light source was what appeared to be sunlight coming from a staircase. There had been a torch resting on the desk, but it looked like it went out a while he had been sleeping. And now that he was looking at the desk, it looked like Desmond had spent the night reading one of the multiple books.

"The hell happened to me?" Desmond muttered when he finally stopped sneezing. "Where am I?"

Desmond took one last look around him before deciding to head upstairs. He tested his weight on the old, wooden stairs, and he did not like the sound they made when he stepped on them. Still, it looked like this was the only way to get in or out of this place, so he guessed they would support him. And so, Desmond decided to slowly take each step with ease, not wanting to break his only route upstairs.

However, when he reached halfway up the stairs, there was a loud snap under him. And before Desmond could react, the staircase collapsed to the ground, the assassin along with it. He fell to the ground with a huge _oof_, but other than that was rather unscathed.

"Ouch." Desmond muttered as he rubbed his side, the same side that Alex had hit during their first encounter. "Thanks Alex, that'll hurt for the next couple days."

And then Desmond half expected for Alex to retort to his witty remark. But the virus was nowhere around the assassin, and that allowed him to let out a sigh of relief. Desmond then picked himself up and dusted himself off. He looked up to see that it would be difficult for him to get out of this place now that the stairs were out of commission.

However, he was an assassin, and he was rather talented at climbing.

Desmond took a running start and then jumped to get a grip on a still attached wooden plank just above his head. He got a hold of the plank and hoisted himself upwards. Desmond then expertly used each imperfection on the wall to help push himself upward until he reached the top. Desmond pulled himself up, and then looked around to see that he was still in the chapel; he had just been in a concealed basement.

He looked around the chapel and saw everyone, except Alex, huddled around the TV that they took from their last hideout. Rebecca was currently in her wheelchair, and the other two assassins were huddled around her, their eyes glued to the television screen.

"Hey guys, what are you watching?" Desmond said as he made his way into the chapel.

Lucy looked up from the Television, and her eyes changed from pensive to relief as she saw that Desmond was alright. Apparently, the assassins knew that Desmond had been down in the secret room but had decided not to bother him. But that still didn't mean that Lucy wouldn't worry about his self-being. Lucy motioned for Desmond to join them, and he was there in a matter of seconds.

"What's this?" Desmond asked again, but was then shushed by Shaun accompanied with a hard stare from him. "Jeez, sorry."

"Just shut up and watch the news report." Shaun muttered, directing his attention back to the anchor woman sitting behind the desk.

Desmond rolled his eyes and shoved his head between Lucy's and Rebecca's, making sure that he could see the news report.

" . . . And welcome back to Good Morning America." One news lady said as the camera spun around to face her. "We've got some interesting news for people in the Manhattan area. Yesterday at around 5:20, a woman was attacked on the Lower Midtown Subway station by a group of people part from the local gang known as the Clan. The gang's intention was to molest the woman; however, there seems to be a kind of guardian angel looking over her."

The live footage was then cut to an interview. There was a woman who was standing in front of what looked like a police station. The sky was dark, revealing that this was footage taken from last night. Her brown hair was messed up, she had a woolen blanket over her soldiers, and it was clear that she had been crying for quite some time as she had long lines of mascara over her face.

"This man, he just came out of nowhere and ordered those men to let me go. He told them to get their hands off of me." The woman paused to sniffle for a second. "They threatened to kill me if he stayed, but he still tried to help me."

"And then what happened?" A male voice spoke into the microphone before putting it back in the poor woman's face.

"Well, he—he couldn't do anything with a knife at my neck, so they tossed him over the edge of the subway station. Right in front of a passing train. But he survived!" The woman added before the reporter could ask her another question. "He survived, he didn't die! Just as the men were going to attack me, he was back on the station, looking exactly the same.

"He ordered the men to let me go, and when the gang members didn't comply, he killed one of them. That was when the main thug lost his grip on me, and I ran away. I didn't stay back to see if my hero killed the others, but I could hear their screams."

The recorded interview stopped there and cut to a small clip of a team of forensic analysts observing the crime scene. The news cast tried to keep out the blood and gore from the vicious fight, but it was impossible. Blood and parts of flesh were displayed everywhere, and it only slightly bothered the assassins. The camera zoomed into the bottom of the subway tracks, and the assassins were horrified to find most of a body between the trails. Apparently, a couple passing trains had picked up some debris before the police arrived to the crime scene and shut the station off.

"As you can see, the pictures are incredibly graphic, and we are sorry for some of our younger viewers." The news anchor's female voice said as they showed some photos taken of the scene. "But the real question here is: whether this is a guardian angel like the woman said, or if the man is an angel from hell."

Another interview started to roll, but this one was with the chief of police, and Desmond could tell that he was pretty pissed.

"This man is not a hero, he is a murderer." The chief of police said, his thick mustache shaking as he spoke. "What he should have done was call 911, not risk his life and the life of another. What this man did was monstrous, and we can't forgive him. Now he is a murderer, and we _will_ bring him to justice."

"So you do not believe this man saved the life of this woman?" The unseen male reporter asked.

"What I _believe_ is that the law was not created for individuals to take in their hands. Let the professionals do their jobs and we'll keep everyone safe." The chief of police said, this time directly to the camera instead to the reporter himself. "We will catch the person responsible for this; there will be one less criminal on the streets."

With that, Lucy was smart enough to turn off the television. There was a moaning complaint from Rebecca, as she had wanted to watch the end of the intriguing report. Shaun silently thanked the woman; he didn't need any help from the news in his decision about how idiotic most New Yorkers were. Desmond didn't know what to think.

"What the hell was all that about?" Desmond finally asked, still frozen in place.

Lucy looked at Desmond expectantly. It was obvious to her who this mysterious man was. But she just stared at Desmond, dumbstruck. Thankfully, it was Shaun that literally knocked some sense into the other assassin, as he smacked Desmond in the back of the head.

"You idiot, who do you think it was that did that?" Shaun yelled at Desmond. Desmond gave the Brit a confused look, which only gave Shaun the right to let out an embarrassing groan. "Do I really have to spell it out for you, Desmond? They were talking about Alex."

Finally, recognition washed over Desmond's face, and he blushed a little bit in embarrassment. Still a little sheepish, Desmond retreated from the television screen and towards the bags of food they had stored. Desmond picked out a piece of beef jerky and dug into it. While he did that, the other assassins were busy at working to start another day of Animus training.

But the realization still clung to Desmond. Alex was a killer; there was no doubt about that. However, he had decided to help that woman out rather than slaughter everyone in his sight. Why did he choose to help that stranger? What did this mean?

"So, where's Alex at anyways?" Desmond asked between bites. "And why was I down in that room for the night?"

Rebecca looked up from recalculating the Animus. "Alex said that he had to get some fresh air after being cooped up here for the whole night. 'Sides, said he had to go visit someone." Rebecca's eyes flashed. "He wouldn't tell us who it was, either."

"Enough, Rebecca." Lucy spat at the other woman. She still didn't trust Alex fully. "The longer he's not here, the better for us. And Desmond, you weren't yourself last night."

Desmond's face sobered up. _"Oh, it was one of those nights again. I wonder what Altaїr or Ezio made me do in this huge place? Probably freaked the hell out of everybody while they were at it."_

"And it wasn't one of your ancestors whose memories we were digging through." Lucy added as she sat down by her computer. "It was a new one. I'm going to do some research on it during today's session."

"Well, that's exciting." Desmond sarcastically muttered as he made his way to the Animus. He made sure he was comfortable before looking at Rebecca. She gave him a big thumbs up and a overly excited smile. "I'm ready Rebecca, pull me in."

* * *

**Abstergo Industries: New York HQ**

**New York City, New York**

**7:18 A.M.**

Warren Vidic had just arrived at the New York Headquarters around midnight last night. He had arrived via helicopter from JFK airport, which had waited for him to land from his flight in Italy. The ride from the airport to the southern tip of Manhattan was a short one, and he spent most of the time scrutinizing the people in the large city.

Somewhere in that mess was a certain man he needed. Actually, there were two.

Warren had been surprised that the assassins had gone so far as to go to America to hide, seeing as what both factions sought was in Europe somewhere. But he didn't hesitate to head out to New York to recapture one of the most important pawns in his plan.

He had just woken up from a short nap, and was already at the desk designated to him on the top floor, which overlooked the mouth of the Hudson River and the Statue of Liberty. He was typing away on the computer, giving orders to his underlings back in Italy. Without him there, Warren worried that those buffoons would goof up their Animi and destroy what project they had devised when Desmond and that traitorous Lucy fled.

"No, if you do that, you'll risk all the data we've collected from the past two months, you moron." Warren whispered to himself as he read his E-mail from his business confidant. He quickly typed a response. "Don't do anything until I return, which I hope will be as soon as possible."

By the time Warren finished his E-mail, the secretary on the outside of his office was buzzing him. Warren sent the E-mail. He let out an irritated sigh and glared at the doorway, hoping that he was boring holes in the woman's hollow head.

"Yes, Deborah?" Warren sighed, his annoyance seeping into his tone as he spoke into the intercom.

"Sir, your 8:00 appointment has arrived early. Shall I allow him in?" A woman's voice asked over his intercom. There was a small pause before she continued. "He's armed, sir."

Warren felt like growling at the idiotic woman. How was it possible for Abstergo to hire someone without brains, it escaped him. He paused to let out all of his negative energy before speaking on the intercom again.

"Tell the man to disarm before stepping a foot in my office." Warren ordered slowly, emphasizing every syllable as if he was talking to child. "Once he has done that, he is welcome to come in. But only when he has disarmed himself. That is all, Deborah."

The Templar didn't receive any response, so he imagined that the man he was meeting with was doing as instructed. He returned to his computer to oversee the research that his team was doing while in his absence. After looking through a couple reports, Warren heard the door to his office forcibly open up, along with the protests from his secretary.

"Excuse me! You cannot go in there yet, sir!" Deborah frantically tried to tell the man, but the stranger just ignored her. "Dr. Vidic will not see you if—"

The stranger would not allow the secretary to finish; he shut the door in her face, leaving a very flustered Deborah in its wake. The stranger, clearly a soldier of some sort by his garments, made sure that the secretary wasn't going to barge in after him and then he turned around to face Warren. The two men locked eyes, and the Warren frowned severely.

"Please treat my secretary with more respect next time you come. And it would be a better idea for you to leave your weapons behind." Warren ordered as he stood up from his seat. He walked around his desk, closing his laptop along the way, and headed to the coffee maker on the other side of the office. "Shall I pour you a cup?"

"With all due respect, sir, I'd like to get this meeting done and over with." The man said with confidence. Warren could see that this man was a superior, and that he could command a group of men to their deaths with just a wave of his hand. "If what you said to my superiors was incorrect or false by any means, then I have no reason to spend my time here."

"I'll take that as a no, then." Warren just let out a small chuckle as he poured himself a cup of coffee. The Templar sipped his coffee and then went back to his desk. He pulled out a file from one of the drawers and handed it to the soldier in front of him. "Tell me, how much do you know about Abstergo Industries?"

"Well, sir, all that I know is that it's the parent company of Gentek, having funded that company heavily for several years. That is until . . . until Gentek went bankrupt." The soldier stated, quickly catching his mistake. He looked through the files that Warren handed men, and he noticed that it was a copy of the same files he had been handed to back from base. The only difference was that this one didn't have as much black lines covering the reports. He paused and read as much as he could before someone took the data out of his hands. "That is the only information that I've had access to."

"Don't act like the Outbreak didn't happen, soldier. Everyone in this building knows about the Outbreak here from 2009. In fact, I believe that this building contains more people with such knowledge than the Pentagon and White House combined."

The soldier seemed surprised. "Sir, if I may ask, how do you know about the Outbreak? It's more classified than Area 51."

Warren just looked at the soldier, watching as the younger man read highly restricted information. He knew he had the man exactly where he wanted him.

"I know about it because Abstergo had funded the research for the Blacklight Project. I myself was a personal friend of McMullen for a very long time. In fact, Abstergo was the highest bidder for the virus when it was to be completed. However, that all changed when one of their scientists screwed everything up."

"I am well aware of Alex Mercer, sir." The soldier quickly stated, gritting teeth with remnant frustration.

"Good, because I must inform you that that man was here in this building only two nights ago." Warren said. He paused to take a sip of his coffee and take in the man's surprised expression. "Hold your breath; he's no longer here. Mercer escaped shortly after capture, along with another person of interest. He's somewhere in this city right now, along with said person of interest."

The solder stopped to think for a second. He had no idea that Mercer was still at large. How could his higher-ups lie to him like this? The soldier looked out the window, his mind racing with strategic plans and long forgotten memories of the horrors in New York Zero. Back when the city was known by that name, at least.

Warren studied the soldier. Apparently, he had made a smart move when contacting this faction of the armed forces. Warren was glad that they had sent this man, also; he seemed both physically and mentally willing to do what he wanted. And Warren didn't even tell the soldier his plans.

"Sir, what are your plans for me if I agree to cooperate?" The soldier said, finally returning to their conversation.

Warren smirked. He took out another file from his desk and gave it to the soldier. The soldier looked at the file, noticing that it contained profiles of five people, one of them being Alex Mercer. The soldier studied the other four faces for quite some, taking in each and every detail that they had. Two women, two men. Glasses, hair color, scars and other discrepancies.

"I want you to covertly hunt these five down. We have reason to believe that Mercer is working with these people, and have teamed up to take down Abstergo for a reason I cannot disclose to you at this moment of time." Warren said. He stood up and plucked out two profile pictures from the file. One was Mercer's and the other one was a tanned man with a scar over his lips. "These two need to be brought to us alive. The others you can kill on sight."

"While I cannot speak for this, uh, Desmond Miles Dr. Vidic, I can say that bringing in Mercer alive is a suicidal mission." The soldier stated with experience. "Even if this wasn't a covert operation, it'd be impossible."

"Ah, yes. But don't you specialize in things like Mercer? Have I asked your Command for the wrong man to do this job?" Warren rhetorically asked the soldier. "I must have been mistaken. If you are not capable for this job, then you are dismissed."

Warren went back to his computer, giving the soldier in front of him enough time to think of his options. Just as Warren began typing up a letter for a colleague still in Italy, the Templar heard the sound of the soldier putting the files down on the desk. Warren looked up at the man, whose eyes were cold and determined.

"I'll assemble a small team of my men and we will be ready by tomorrow at oh-six-hundred." The soldier stated, looking at the man.

With that, Warren let out a small sigh of relief. The Templar had played his cards right and manipulated the man until he had him right where he wanted him. It had been easy, too. Warren stuck out his right hand for the soldier to shake it, and was surprised to see that the man's right hand was a fake one, a prosthetic.

Warren smiled coldly. "It's so wonderful to know that you have joined the cause, Captain Cross."


	17. Wake Up Call

It had been almost a week since Alex integrated himself into the assassin team. Alex spent most of his time keeping to himself up in the balcony, watching the others work over the Animus, which he still had a great interest in. To him, it just another way that he and Desmond had something in common. Desmond could access his ancestors' memories through a machine, and Alex had unlimited access to the memories of the people he consumed.

Desmond was still progressing in his skills and the Bleeding Effect was slowly decreasing in its hold over the Assassin. Lucy was still nervous about it, but held her tongue around him and the others. However, by the time that a week had passed since moving to the chapel, Desmond had returned to just mumbling in his sleep and occasionally talking in a different language.

Now, the assassins were finishing up for the day. Shaun's station was already powered down, and it was his turn to prepare their small dinner. He left the chapel and returned twenty minutes later, a huge bag of fast food in his hands. He slammed the door behind him and tossed Lucy a wrapped hamburger. Lucy caught it and quickly unwrapped her burger.

Lucy was still working on finding out which of Desmond's ancestors had taken position of him, but was meeting limited success. She had to E-mail the Mentor for Desmond's family tree, but that hadn't helped her at all, due to some inconsistencies in some of the man's more recent ancestors.

"Thanks for the burger, Shaun. Save one for Desmond when he comes out." Lucy ordered before taking a huge bite out of her own. She then gave a look at the comatose man lying on the Animus. "That is, if he ever decides to come out anytime soon."

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!" Rebecca muttered sharply as she feverishly typed on Baby's main console. She pressed a button and wheeled over to the other side of the Animus. "Hold your horses, okay?! Desmond'll be out in less than five minutes. And while I'm at it, can you put my salad on my desk, Shaun?"

Shaun let out a small sigh and meandered his way to Rebecca's cluttered desk. The Brit shoved some important looking documents out of the way and placed the container holding Rebecca's greenery in the middle of the desktop. Once that was done with, Shaun went over to his desk and plucked out a chicken wrap from the fast food bag.

"I also got you something, Alex, if you are ever interested enough to eat with us." The Brit said almost jokingly before he took a bite out of the chicken wrap. "You know, if you want to be a part of this team, you should try to get to know us. A good way to do that is through lunch."

Alex looked up from the balcony and slid down to the ground. There was a large _thud_, but the assassins managed to ignore it. Alex looked at Shaun and then at the other two conscious assassins, but made no effort to move towards Shaun and retrieve whatever the Brit had bought for him. Rather, he just stood where he was.

"I don't eat human food." Alex finally stated. Lucy and Rebecca looked up from their work and gave Alex a puzzled look. Slight realization spread across the computer techie's face, and Lucy soon wore the same expression of disgust and sadness. "I can't."

However, Shaun was still oblivious to why Alex wouldn't eat.

"And why is that?" The Brit asked, his voice becoming sharper with irritation and curiosity.

Alex was not ashamed of who he was, or what he did to survive. The virus could care less if everyone in Manhattan had witnessed him consume a person or two. One of the only reasons he didn't openly consume his victims was that that would be an open invitation for Blackwatch to come back and hunt him down. He did not need that in his life again. He was a virus that consumed people to survive. It was what he was, and he had grown accustomed to this lifestyle.

"I eat people." Alex stated casually, as if it was a normal thing to say. He looked straight into Shaun's eye when he said it, and he could see the man jump at those three little words. The color in Shaun's face started to disappear, and any friendly attempts that the two had tried to make in the past week took a huge fumble. "More like consuming them, actually. But only the scum of society."

There was a pause as Shaun tried to think of something to say to the virus standing in front of him.

"Well . . . I guess that's better than, uh, the alternative." Shaun muttered as he slowly brought his chicken wrap up to his mouth.

Shaun then retreated back to his work. The atmosphere around the assassins grew awkward at the horrific revelation of Alex's diet. That was one thing that they didn't want to know, but they were still grateful for future references. However, the assassins and Alex still felt a little uncomfortable, even when Desmond finally came out from under the Animus and completely unaware of what had just happened.

Desmond dizzily walked over to Shaun, noticing that he had bought them lunch, and quickly dug through the bag. He grabbed the two left over burgers and dug into one like a rabid animal. Desmond was starving, and all he wanted to do was get something in his stomach as soon as possible.

"Bloody hell, Desmond, where are your manners?!" Shaun exclaimed when he noticed that Desmond was dripping burger grease on his clean sweater. He looked ticked off, and the Brit roughly shoved Desmond away from him. He grabbed the untouched burger from the tanned man's hands, and Desmond let out a small complaint. "Nu-uh, Desmond. I'll give this to you only if you agree to eat like a civilized person."

"Come on, Shaun, I'm eating for two people here!" Desmond whined. That gave him a couple puzzled looks from everyone in the chapel, and Desmond was quick to explain. "Ezio was hungry the whole time I was in the Animus, and I'm practically starving. So please, give me the burger, Shaun."

The other assassin thought for a minute. Shaun then frowned. "No."

"Shaun, just give him the damn burger." Lucy quickly ordered while she typed away at the computer. "I can't concentrate on my work with him whining."

Shaun finally complied with the woman's demands and begrudgingly handed over the other burger. Desmond swiped it from his hands and quickly ate the All-American patty on buns as he made his way over to his sleeping bag. Both of the men were still steaming from their pointless little dispute.

However, Alex found the whole thing rather comedic, and he was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He turned away from the assassins and allowed himself to snicker. Alex had never seen such camaraderie like this before in his life, and it would stay fresh in his mind for a long time. Alex was new to this, and he wanted to absorb every little detail that had just happened.

Suddenly, the virus felt a buzzing in his pants pocket, and that snapped him back into reality. He felt around the pocket until he felt the small cell phone that Ragland had given him in case of an emergency. In case something was happening with Dana.

Without further adieu, Alex took the cell phone out of the pocket and answered the call. Alex turned away from the assassins as if to make this phone call private, but he could feel their eyes on him as he walked away from the main part of the chapel and into one of the unexplored parts.

"Ragland? What's going on?" Alex asked, his voice trying to stay strong but faltering slightly.

"Alex, it's your sister." The mortician's voice rang through Alex's ear, shocking him. Alex couldn't tell if the man's voice was one of sorrow or of relief. "The new medication is working; she's showing signs that she might wake up sometime soon."

It took a moment for Alex to find his voice. "How much longer?"

"The doctors predict a couple more hours until she reaches consciousness again. They're already preparing for Dana as we speak." Ragland informed slowly, like he usually does. "However, they are not sure if she will remain awake for very long. Dana's body still needs to recover, and it will be quite a shock for her when she wakes up."

Alex frowned at these words.

"Are you telling me that Dana might slip back into another coma after this?!" Alex asked, his voice becoming razor sharp.

"Not at all. I'm telling you that she'll need help, and that you must be careful around her." Ragland said over the phone. His voice was becoming slightly nervous, and he tried not to let Alex notice it. "Tell me, Alex, how much does Dana actually know about you?"

Alex thought for a second. The last time that he and Dana had actually spoken to each other was just before that Hunter had taken her away. And that was just after he had tried to apologize for not telling his sister the truth of who he was. And at that time, he didn't know the whole truth either. Now Alex didn't know if he wanted to tell Dana.

" . . . Not much." Alex finally muttered.

"Exactly. Go easy on the poor woman when she wakes up." Ragland ordered the virus. "The last thing she needs is cold, hard reality slapped in her face. Dana needs to be gently urged into it, slowly and calmly."

"Ragland . . . thanks." Alex had trouble saying.

With that, Alex ended their phone call. His body was trembling with emotions as they boiled up. Alex felt ecstatic, but he also felt extremely nervous. Ragland had reminded him that he was not the Alex Mercer that Dana grew up with, but the virus that the man had created and used his skin as a disguise. Somehow, he knew that that wouldn't comfort Dana.

But she also deserved the truth.

Alex then quickly stormed out of the Chapel, the assassins' eyes still on him. Alex thought he heard one of them question where he was going, but had already tuned them out. He promptly left, slamming the metal door behind him, which probably shook the whole building. Alex hurriedly walked towards midtown, towards the direction of the hospital Dana was being kept at.

He still had a couple hours until she woke up, if what Ragland had said was true. That would give Alex just enough time to stop by the Florist shop and get his sister one last basket of flowers. Alex felt for the money that he never used in his back pocket and was then reassured by the texture of the green bills in one small bundle.

Alex walked through the streets slowly and at the pace of the people around him, decided not to rush things for once. Sure, he could already be at _Adrianne's _by now, but why would he be in such a hurry? Dana would wake up on her own time, and he couldn't rush that even if he tried.

But since Alex had decided to walk instead of glide through Manhattan's skyline, that gave a certain assassin the opportunity to follow him. Alex caught on quickly that someone familiar was tailing him, but had allowed the assassin to follow for a couple blocks before calling him out. He was almost to the Florist shop when he stopped and turned around to look at the man.

"If I had wanted someone to come with me, I would've asked, Desmond." Alex called out, his eyes on the man in the white hoodie a couple blocks away from him.

Desmond probably couldn't hear Alex call him out, but he knew it was so when Alex had turned around and glared at him with those ice blue eyes of his. Desmond froze in place and then mentally swore. He had left the Chapel without Lucy's permission, as the assassins thought it was a good idea to keep him in their sights after the little fiasco with Alex and Abstergo.

In other words, he felt like he was being chained up like some dog. And the young assassin saw Alex leaving as the perfect opportunity for some temporary freedom. But now that the virus had caught him, Desmond didn't know what to do.

However, Desmond saw Alex motion for him to join him, a little unwillingly too. Desmond frowned for a small second before jogging to catch up with the virus waiting for him. And as soon as he was at the other's side, Alex continued forward, ignoring the assassin's presence. Desmond rolled his eyes and kept close to the man.

"Want to tell me where we're going?" Desmond finally asked as they stopped at an intersection.

"Not particularly." Alex grimaced as he spoke. The light turned for them to continue walking, and the two men did so. There was a small pause as Alex thought. He let out a small sigh before continuing. "But I guess you'll just tag along anyways. We're going to visit someone. My sister."

Desmond froze, once again, in his footsteps. He looked up at Alex, who impatiently waited for the man to continue walking. Alex even crossed his arms to show how impatient he was at the moment. But Desmond had to take a few moments to process this. _"Alex has a sister? Wha—how?"_

"If you're done standing in the middle of the street looking like an idiot, I'd like to get going." Alex growled as he once again turned his back on the assassin.

Desmond then hesitated. He didn't know if following the man would be a good idea now. Although the two were seemingly on the right foot now, Desmond didn't really want to know about Alex's past. Hell, he had his ancestors' pasts to fret about. But somehow, Desmond found himself following the leather jacket clad man before his mind could even process it.

They walked for about ten minutes, leaving the assassin's Chapel far behind them. Desmond wondered how far away Alex's sister lived, but instead found Alex taking a quick turn into a flower and bouquet shop. Desmond paused one last time to give the virus a funny look before following him inside.

The late spring air was soon consumed by the intense heat and humidity of the flower shop. Desmond instantly tried to shrug his hoodie off as he felt himself start to sweat. He watched as Alex seemingly ignored the heat of the shop and went up to the front counter and jingled the little hand bell. He acted as if it was normal for him to do this, but Desmond could not mentally picture this as a normal occurrence for the killer.

Just as Desmond was taking this all in, a woman appeared from under the counter. She smiled as she saw Alex, showing that the two somehow knew each other. Alex nodded as a greeting and silently handed over a large sum of money. The woman looked at the green bills, and then stared in awe at Alex.

"The usual, Alex?" The woman asked, slightly overly cheery.

Alex nodded stiffly once again. "Yeah, the usual."

* * *

At first, there was nothing. There was nothing around Dana. She felt nothing around her as if she was suspended in midair. Then she started to feel a slight prickling feeling in her toes and fingers. It was faint at first, but then the feeling slowly grew until it was almost unbearable. Dana started to panic, but then there was a small voice in the back of her head that told her to stay calm, to which she hesitantly obliged to.

Next came the feeling of weight. Soon, Dana felt her body start to sink into an unknown object or substance that she couldn't name. She felt heavy, too heavy to be considered healthy. Dana's first instinct was to pick her head up, but no matter how much energy she tried to put into lifting her head, she couldn't do it. So, she did the next best thing: wiggle her fingers. Thankfully, she could do that.

And as soon as Dana did that, a loud ringing erupted in her ears as if her brain was trying to repair itself and failing miserably. It grew until that was the only thing that she could concentrate on. And as quick as it came, the ringing in her ears disappeared. In its place was the sound of a beeping of a heart monitor. It was evenly paced, and Dana concentrated on that until her other senses returned.

Finally, Dana felt confident to open up her tired eyes. Her vision was blurry for the longest of time, but she could see that she was in a room. Dana guessed it was a hospital room. But that wasn't what she was focusing on; she was focusing the blurry figure of one man in black that stood out of the white haze and the almost unrecognizable shape of another man who was shrouded in whiteness.

The black figure slowly approached Dana, and she felt instant panic. For all that she knew, this was a Blackwatch soldier waiting to interrogate for her brother's whereabouts. The black figure noticed her alarm and stopped at her side. He reached down slowly and ever so gently grabbed her nearest hand. The figure started to rub that hand, and that's when Dana knew who was in her room.

"Alex?" Dana croaked out softly, her voice rusty from lack of use. "Alex, is that you?"

The black figure sat down on what must have been a nearby chair but kept a firm grip on Dana's hand. He bent forward, as if he was trying to look straight into Dana's blurry eyes.

"It's me, Dana." Alex's worried voice let a wave of relief flush through the woman. Her brother had saved her from the infected, just like she had hoped. Dana tried to tighten her own hold on Alex's hand, but found herself too weak to do it. "It's alright, Dana. You're safe."

Her brother's words should have been reassuring to the woman, but they had fallen flat somehow. Dana noticed the off tone in Alex's voice, and that put her recovering body on edge. Her vision was slowly improving, and Alex's face was becoming distinguishable through the skin colored blur. Dana could see his ice blue eyes and the basic shape of his face, but it was still not crystal clear.

"Wh—where am I?" Dana asked as she tried to look at the room with her improving vision.

"Relax, you're in Lenox Hill Hospital." Alex said, his voice soft and gentle. It was so different from the voice Dana had heard before blacking out. This voice was scared, and yet it was relieved at the same time. In her mind, Dana could not think of what would have changed her brother in such a short time. "You're going to have to take things slowly, Dana. More slowly than you think?"

Dana frowned. That sounded like an odd command. Sure, she had blacked out when the Hunter took her away, but she couldn't have been out of it for very long. Right?

"Why?" Dana asked as she looked back at her brother, who she could now make out almost perfectly. She noticed that her brother was still in the same clothes he was in before, but that didn't necessarily surprise her. "What's wrong?"

There was a small pause.

And then Alex gulped. That's when Dana knew that things were not what she had initially thought when she woke up. Something had happened, and she had been out for it. Suddenly, Dana began to wonder if she had been unconscious longer than she had initially thought.

"Dana . . . when I saved you from Greene . . . that was over two years ago." Alex voice was unusually quiet, but it still cut through the air like a knife.

The only thing that Dana noticed right then was her heart monitor's beeping indiscreetly speeding up. Her brother also noticed this and then started to rub the hand that he held gently as if to soothe her. It barely did anything, as Dana was starting to panic even more. What had happened to Manhattan when she was out? What happened to Alex?

"Relax, Dana. Relax." Alex ordered his sister, his voice taking his normal sharp tone that it had been lacking beforehand. Dana tried to, but found it almost impossible. As if he knew what Dana was thinking about, Alex answered her before she even asked. "The infection, the Outbreak, it's gone. It's been gone for a while."

That got Dana's heart rate to slow down slightly, but only slightly. It was a huge wave of relief for Dana to hear that the infection was gone. That meant no more military goons chasing after the both of them. They were safe.

But something was wrong here. The more Dana looked at her brother's face, the more desolate he looked despite the obvious relief that she was at last awake. His face was still the same pale color it was when he first saved her from Blackwatch: unhealthily pale. She knew that something was still wrong, that something was still haunting her brother.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Dana forced herself to ask. Half of her mind was telling her that it was probably better not to know at this time, but the other half was begging to know what Alex knew but wasn't telling her. There was still a lot that Dana didn't know about her brother after the Penn Station accident. Hell, she had been startled to know that Alex could hear the thoughts of the infected. She had freaked out even. "Please, tell me."

With that, Alex turned away from Dana and looked at the man who was standing by the door, looking bored. This was the first time that Dana actually paid attention to him, as she never thought of her brother bringing a friend with him anywhere. Just the thought of Alex actually having a friend was kind of unusual.

He wore a hoodie, which was one thing that he had in common with Alex, had a tanned skin complexion, and it looked like he had a scar that ran over his lips on one of the sides. He looked younger than Alex, but looked strong and fit as if he was an Olympic runner. The man looked like someone that Alex would have never associated with back before the Outbreak. But Alex always had a reason for doing things, so this man must have some importance to her brother.

Finally, the man wearing the white hoodie noticed that Alex was glaring at him.

"Oh, right." The man muttered, nodding his head. "You want some alone time. Sorry."

And with that, the hoodie wearing man exited the hospital room. He closed the door silently behind him, and that was like a signal for Alex to return his attention back on Dana. Again, Alex had a somber look, and Dana didn't know what he was going to do. One thing was for sure, it looked like her brother was going to regret it.

"Dana?" His words were strained as if he was forcing himself to speak. ". . . We need to talk."


	18. The Cards we are Dealt

Desmond was sitting in a plastic chair a few feet down the hall from Alex's sister's hospital room. When they had entered the room, Desmond had been taken aback at the two's likeness. The assassin had started to ask Alex some questions about his sister, but with just one deadly look from the virus Desmond knew to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to remain in one piece.

And so he watched as the two siblings shared what the assassin thought must have been a reunion that had been hard on them both. Desmond was sure that it got even worse after Alex had silently ordered him to wait outside for him. Even now as he sat in a plastic chair on the other side of the wall, he could feel the tension seeping out from under the door.

Desmond tried to ignore that awful feeling. When he decided to tag along with Alex, he hadn't been expecting this. Now, he'd rather be in the Animus, walking down the streets of Venice or Florence. Desmond had thought about leaving Alex behind, knowing that the virus would be more than grateful to have some alone time. But he stayed where he was for some reason.

As he waited for Alex and his sister, Dana, to finish their reunion, Desmond slumped in said plastic chair. He had his arms crossed and a bored look over his face. After what must have been half an hour of waiting for Alex to come out, Desmond let out a loud, obnoxious groan and let his head fall backwards. He was so bored, even Shaun's chiding sounded entertaining at this point.

A couple more minutes passed, and then a nurse in scrubs came over, wheeling a cot in front of her. She stopped abruptly in front of Desmond and then went over to the secretary by the elevator. The two women started a short conversation, passing paperwork between each other. However, Desmond's attention was not on the two women right next to him, but on who was lying in the cot.

It was a young boy, who couldn't have been any older than seven. He had wilted curly red hair and large blue eyes that looked slightly tired. The young child looked very pale and weak. He kept his eyes on Desmond, taking in each and every detail in his bored, tanned face. The two looked at each other for a half second before the boy smiled a soft smile, a couple teeth missing.

Desmond smiled back, waving at him as he did so. He was then granted another smile, a large one this time. The child waved back slowly, and then he tried to get into a sitting position. Once the boy did, he crossed his legs under the thin sheet, directing his full attention on the assassin.

"Uh, hey." Desmond said, keeping a genuine smile on his face. He leaned closer to him, putting his hands on his knees. "What's your name?"

"Andrew." The boy said after a second's hesitation. He scratched his head feverishly, sending the curly bush of red hair everywhere. "But ma momma calls me Andy."

"Well, nice to meet you, Andy." Desmond said as he over dramatically swung his right hand towards Andy so they could shake. Andy giggled at the motion and quickly stuck out his own right hand. The two shook, Desmond's hand covering the smaller one entirely. "My name is . . . Mike, and it is _very_ nice to meet you."

Andy's eyes lit up when Desmond gave the small boy his fake name. He actually jumped up from excitement. Desmond raised his eyebrows in curiosity, but he didn't have to wait that long for the little kid to tell him what had made him so excited.

"My best friend's name was Mike!" The kid practically shouted with exuberance. And then, just as suddenly as his excitement came, it disappeared. Andy's eyes dropped down towards the ground, and his face saddened slightly. "I haven't seen him in a while . . ."

Desmond moved closer to Andy, furrowing his eyebrows as he took in the small boy's words. He had used his friend's name in the past tense; that could never be good.

"What happened to him?" Desmond forced himself to ask, his voice turning to a more serious tone.

"Well . . ." Andy began, the cogs in his head visibly turning as his mouth readied to tell Desmond a story. It looked like the kid needed someone to talk to, and Desmond was somewhat glad that he could be the young boy's outlet. "Me an' Mike got the same disease or somethin'. We had the same room an' we shared the same toys an' stuff. But he got really sick one day an' the doctors took him away. They told me that they were gonna bring him back soon."

Desmond's face darkened with understanding. "But he never came back, did he?"

Andy shook his head feverishly, once again sending his curly red hair into a frenzy. The color that was left in the poor boy's face had then disappeared. The two were then left in an awkward silence that Desmond never thought he'd find himself in with a seven year old. Desmond gulped subconsciously as he tried to think of something positive to say.

"So . . . uh, what do you have?" Desmond asked, mentally beating himself for asking the boy. "I'm mean, what disease do you have?"

"The doctors an' momma say I have the Cancer."

Desmond's heart dropped. "_No, not at this age. No one should ever get Cancer at this age." _Desmond thought to himself. _"There's still so much to live for. So much he hasn't experienced yet. So much that I didn't have a chance to experience at his age."_

The Creed of the assassins was created to not only protect the assassins themselves, but to protect the free will of the innocent. Yet, the Creed could do nothing to help the child in front of Desmond's eyes. Desmond could not protect Andy from a disease that was difficult to treat. But still, he had a newfound, raw feeling that he had to help this kid now matter what.

Yet again, Desmond felt powerless to help those in need, just like the numerous times in the Animus. But this was different. This was real life.

This was happening now, in the present. He was not just watching someone who had been dead for centuries suffer through to the end. He was watching a person who had almost no chance of surviving with his own two eyes. _His_ eyes. It felt even worse than he imagined it.

"But the doctors say I'm gonna get better real soon." Andy added when he noticed how somber Desmond looked after his last statement. His voice was enthusiastic as it tried to cheer up a sullen Desmond. "Mamma said that I can go home in a couple months."

Desmond perked up. "Are you happy about that?"

Andy nodded his head as an answer for Desmond's question. He scratched his head once again as he told Desmond more. "I'm gonna go home and play with Cooper and throw him the ball and feed him an' stuff. I'm gonna go back to school and be with all my friends again. I can't wait."

A second passed as Desmond took this all in. He then nodded, content that the kid was probably going to make it through. Suddenly, Desmond thought of something, and he smirked at the thought.

"Hey Andy, you know what makes me happy?" Desmond asked, his lips and scar turning up into a devious smirk.

"What?" The young child wondered.

"This." Desmond said.

The assassin then leaned over in front of Andy. He put his hands up by his head, making moose ears and then stuck out his tongue and made a raspberry at the young boy. In all terms, Desmond was making a large fool of himself, but he didn't care. All Desmond cared about was cheering up the sick boy in front of him.

And it seemed to be working, too. Andy let out a small fit of giggles before copying the assassin and blowing his own raspberry at him. The two boys, as Desmond couldn't haven't been called anything else at this point, continued to make weird faces at each other. It must have gone on long enough for the nurse who had wheeled Andy over to come back and watch the show. When the nurse finally let out a small giggle, Desmond had caught himself making his eyes crossed for the younger boy. He stopped and looked at the nurse, slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry to interrupt the fun you two are having, but Andrew needs to be at therapy in five minutes." The nurse said after she had gotten Desmond's attention. "We can't let the doctors wait any longer than they should."

"No, it's my fault. I was, uh, just getting acquainted with Andy here." Desmond said as he straightened himself out and sat back in his chair. "I'm waiting for my friend to finish some of his business here. See, he's my ride."

The nurse nodded, understanding. She started to push Andy down the hallway and towards the elevator. She patted the young boy on the head gently and then looked back at Desmond, who was once again getting comfy in the plastic chair.

"You have a way with children, young man." The nurse said as she and the young boy went further down the hallway. "Say goodbye to your new friend, Andrew."

Andy turned around, a bright smile lighting up his pale, weak face. He waved to Desmond, and the assassin quickly returned it without hesitation.

"By Mike!" Andy shouted happily as the two made their way into the elevator. The elevator's door closed behind him and the nurse, and Desmond knew that he'd probably never see the little red haired boy again.

"By . . . Andy." Desmond said more to himself than to the kid.

And with that, Desmond was once again waiting for Alex to finish spending some alone time with his sister. Desmond pulled the hood over his head to help shield him from the lights and soon found himself settling into a deep sleep. It was in all actuality a short cat nap, because Desmond woke up only ten minutes later from a hard shove from a certain deadly virus.

The shove practically forced Desmond out of the chair and onto the floor. Thankfully, Desmond's assassin reflexes prevented him from falling flat on his face and he only stumbled around until he got his footing. He twisted around to glare at Alex, only to find that the virus did not look like he was in the mood to converse. That is, if he ever actually was the talkative type. Still, Desmond wasn't going to let that slide.

"What the hell, man?" Desmond asked as he continued to glare at Alex. "A little nudge on the shoulder could have done the same job!"

". . . That _was_ a little nudge." Alex said after a moment of silence between the two. Alex kept his eyes off of the assassin and onto the ground as if he didn't want to acknowledge that the assassin was with him. Something was off, and Desmond noticed it. Maybe the virus' talk with his sister had taken a turn for the worse. "I'll be back at the safe house some time tomorrow, or whenever."

Desmond frowned at his words. Yep, something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. The assassin frowned at Alex as the other man headed down towards the elevators. He was about to say something, like asking him where he was going, but couldn't as Alex entered the elevator and didn't wait for Desmond to follow him. Alex sharply punched the elevator buttons, and the door shut right behind him.

A second passed, and then Desmond let out a heavy sigh. Alex could be a bit of a jerk sometimes, and Desmond was learning that fact fast.

So Desmond was left behind, standing in the middle of the hallway like an idiot. He collected himself and then cracked his neck. As soon as he was sure Alex was probably long gone, Desmond headed to the elevator and popped into one at the last second as the doors were already starting to close. He bumped into what looked like a family and they gave him a hard look. The assassin apologized softly and moved to the back of the elevator.

The elevator began to head down, and the family continued to give Desmond a couple hard looks. He tried his best to ignore them. But when he suddenly noticed that his left pants pocket weighed considerably less than before, he swore to himself. He forgot his cell phone in Dana's hospital room. Shaun would be on his back for weeks if he didn't get it.

"Shit." Desmond muttered, gaining yet another couple glares from the family. The mother of the family quickly covered their child's ears to protect her innocence. Desmond frowned. "Uh, sorry. I need to get out. Forgot something."

The father let out a large sigh and pressed a button. The elevator doors opened up, and Desmond quickly exited the small room. He felt the family's eyes finally off of him with the second swoosh of the elevator's doors closing. Desmond decided not to wait for the next one and headed for the stairs.

He noticed that he was only a flight below the one Alex's sister was being held, so he could just casually walked up. It didn't take long, and soon Desmond found himself right in front of Dana's door. He paused, thinking if he should knock first or not. In the end, Desmond tapped his knuckles softly on the door.

He didn't receive an answer. Desmond waited for another half a second before opening the door. He barely got a foot into the room before something whizzed by his head and then slammed into the nearby wall. His assassin reflexes kicked in and he immediately rolled onto the floor, into a defensive position, and extended his hidden blade.

"I swear, Alex, if you don't give me some fucking time to think, I'm gonna—" Dana stopped as soon as she realized that it wasn't her brother who had entered. She froze as she saw Desmond rise from the ground with his hidden blade ready. Dana had a shoe in hand; she had already thrown the other at the assassin. The gleam of light off of his hidden blade caught the woman's attention instantly. "Oh, you're not Alex."

"Yeah, thanks for noticing." Desmond said as he straightened himself out. With a flick of his wrist, the hidden blade returned back in its sheath, showing no sign that it existed at all. But it didn't go unnoticed by the young journalist. "Man, do you and your brother have a vendetta against me or something?"

Dana paused to think as Desmond searched the room for his cell phone. She studied the assassin as she analyzed his words. Dana dropped the shoe to the ground and looked up at Desmond, who looked like he was having a hard time.

"Alex tried to kill you?" Dana asked, her voice turning into a serious tone.

Desmond snorted. "Yeah, like twice."

"Then how the hell are you still alive?" Dana asked, her sharp tongue unintentionally lashing out at the assassin. Her feelings still hadn't calmed down from her talk with Alex. He had just given her too much information too fast. Dana couldn't stomach it all, and she had no idea where she stood in the middle of this mess. "You must know what he's capable of doing. Know who—, what he is."

Desmond nodded as he finally found his phone wedged in between the plain dresser and the chair he had sat in before Dana woke up. He placed it in his pocket and then looked at Dana, whose eyes had been glued to him ever since he entered the room.

"I know who he is." Desmond said in agreement. "And the only reason I'm still alive was because I needed his help and he needed mine. We had a common enemy and the only way we could escape was to work together. It was a mutual agreement . . . and he's kind of been with me and my friends ever since. No idea why, too."

Dana didn't respond; she looked pensive. Her ice blue eyes, exactly identical to Alex's, wandered off of Desmond and towards the window. She looked out into the blue sky between the skyscrapers. Out there was a world that was completely foreign to her. She didn't know if she could survive out there after spending years in a coma.

Her brother . . . he wasn't even her brother. That had been a huge blow, sending her mind spinning with fresh, no old, memories. The man that she had tried to reconnect with during the Outbreak wasn't even a man at all. It was just the Blacklight virus that had cause the near destruction of New York City using her dead brother's body as a disguise. And that horrified Dana.

Her mind was too clouded for her to think clearly. What should she feel for Alex? Even after their terrible talk earlier, Dana still felt some love for the thing pretending to be her brother. But all of her instincts told her to keep away from him.

She just needed time. Dana had already told him that. She just needed time to adjust, and for Alex to keep his distance for a while. As soon as she had her mind recollected, she'd try to contact Alex again. Or maybe not.

Desmond had watched Dana as she thought, but he knew that he shouldn't spend that much time with her. He only had to ask her a couple questions before he headed back to the Chapel. Dana noticed that Desmond was waiting for her to come back to reality.

"Look, I gotta get going. I just need to know if Alex told you anything about me or not." Desmond stated, crossing his arms in impatience as he did so.

Dana blinked. "No, he didn't. Should he have?"

Desmond shook his head. "No. I'm just a paranoid guy. I like it when there aren't a lot of people who know about me. Let's just leave it at that."

"I understand." Dana muttered. "My brother was just like that . . . and so is Alex."

Desmond nodded, although somewhat confused by the woman's choice of words. Sure, it was obvious that Alex wasn't human, but how could he not be her brother? To the assassin, it just didn't make sense. The only explanation he could come up was that the woman was in denial.

"Shit. I guess it's just the cards of life." Dana randomly added, her whole demeanor taking a strange turn. One of Desmond's eyebrows rose in confusion, as if he was asking for her to elaborate. "Some guys have a good hand. They don't have to worry about a damn fucking thing in their whole fucking life."

"And others have the bad hand." Desmond added as he understood her metaphor. His mind instantly went to Andy, the small boy with Cancer, and then back to himself. He was born into a tough life that he had almost no say into. Yet still, he had to carry the burdens of his ancestors for humanity's freewill. "Sucks to be us, huh?"

Dana nodded in agreement, but her mind was elsewhere.

Desmond headed for the door then. He opened the door slowly and started to exit the room. But he stopped halfway through the doorway, his left hand still on the doorknob. He took one last look at Dana, who had returned her gaze to outside the window.

"Hey." Desmond said, catching Dana's attention. "I don't have any clue about what happened between you two. Just let me say that when you were beginning to wake up, Alex transformed into a completely different person. I never saw him like that before. He still loves you a lot. And that it hurts him, too."

There was a moment of silence.

"Thanks, I think I needed that."

* * *

Two months since my last update. Wow. I haven't just fallen off of the horse, I've been left there in the middle of a dirt road to rot. I am so sorry about the long wait for the update. But with school starting, I do not have any time for anything other than homework. And it's only going to get worse.

So I'm changing my update schedule. Instead of once a week (as it had been before this incredibly long wait), I'm going to try to update once a month from now on until I have more free time on my hands.


	19. Errand Problems

Small bonus chapter I've managed to churn out as a little parting gift for the long wait ahead (wink). Enjoy it while it lasts.

* * *

Desmond returned from the hospital an hour later, thoughtful and oblivious to the world around him. He walked into the Chapel's back entryway, his thoughts engulfing him. Dana and Andy, only two people of many that had been unfortunate in life. And what about him? What about him and the other assassins? Hell, even Alex. It seems everyone Desmond knew was unfortunate in some way or another.

When Desmond came into the main part of the Chapel, he found that Alex was true to his word. He hadn't returned yet, leaving the other assassins to their jobs in peace and needed silence. Desmond scratched the top of his head as he thought of where Alex could have been or where he ran off to. Considering the man could run up buildings with extreme ease, Alex could be practically anywhere. But Desmond was certain that the other was most likely out of reach.

However, he stopped pondering Alex's whereabouts when he heard Shaun's disapproving cough and the tapping of a heavy, booted foot. Desmond looked over to the Brit's direction, only to have the irritated man point towards the Animus. The Brit didn't need words to communicate with Desmond, his irritated expression was enough to go on. With the roll of his eyes, Desmond climbed onto Baby, ready to start with another session in Ezio's life. Rebecca muttered a couple words of encouragement before the man was brought under, completely unaware with life outside of the Animus.

And this continued for four days. Four days in the Animus. Four long, freaking days that had Desmond's head aching. Four days of overexposure and increased mental problems from the Bleeding Effect. Four days of accidently slipping into Italian. Four days of worried glances from Lucy, slightly insulting jabs from Shaun, and nonsensical chatter with Rebecca.

Four days with Alex missing.

It was a relief to Lucy and Shaun; they thought that without Alex around, they could get more done in their search. But both Rebecca and Desmond, no matter how much he tried to deny it, were beginning to worry. They both saw Alex as more than a nuisance and an intimidating freak of nature. What they saw . . . they didn't have a name for it yet. At least, Desmond didn't.

On the fifth day, there was still no sign of Alex. But that wasn't on the top of their minds at the moment. The assassins were running low on supplies and someone had to go out and buy goods for the next couple days. And it was just Shaun's luck that it was his turn to venture out in Manhattan.

"Okay . . ." Shaun stated as he looked over the list that Lucy had given him. "Let's get this straight, you need me to get the usual supplies, plus a . . . erm, what's this again, Rebecca?"

"It's an Electro Voltage Stabilizing Capacitor, Shaun. The one on Baby fizzled out last night around one in the morning, probably because we've been running her and Desmond dog tired." Rebecca stated as she wheeled away from the Animus, leaving Desmond unattended. "Without it, we could blow Baby's whole mainframe sky high. If I had it _my_ way, we wouldn't even be running Baby without it. Too much of a risk."

Shaun sighed and stared at the large name on the paper, which was just under bread and batteries. Somehow, he had a bad feeling that the Electro-thingy would take a while for him to find, and that it would give him more of a hassle than he wanted. Rebecca was able to read the Brit's mind, due to his face being an open book at the moment.

"You should be able to find one in any scientific hardware store, I think." Rebecca said as she went back to the Animus to tend to it, as it had started beeping a few seconds ago. "There should be one just thirty blocks south, if I recall."

"Are you sure, Becca?" Shaun sounded unconvinced and somehow slightly worried. "This sounds like something a physicist would be picking up to split atoms at NASA."

"As sure as a duckling in water. Don't sweat it, Shaun."

With a defeated sigh, Shaun muttered his goodbyes to Lucy and Rebecca. Lucy handed the Brit a new disposable phone, a fake ID, and a small firearm for safety reasons as he left. The blonde woman gave him a worried look, hoping that his trip would be short and problem free. Shaun closed the door behind him, his right hand on the small firearm.

Shaun decided to get the piece of equipment Rebecca asked for first, knowing that that would be the hardest thing on the list to get. Shaun took the nearest subway track downtown, which took less than ten minutes, and then stumbled around the streets looking for the store the computer techie had told him about.

Let it be said that Shaun lost his patience pretty quickly.

"Oh for god's sake! Where can I find the bloody hardware store?!" Shaun vented, his face turning a slightly redder shade as he grew more frustrated. "This is probably another one of Becca's pranks." Shaun muttered softly and then set his tone to a girly one as he imitated the computer techie. "Oh, I have the most smashing idea ever; let's send Shaun on a wild goose chase instead of letting him do his job! Buggers. . ."

Suddenly, Shaun felt someone tap his left shoulder. He turned to glare at the person behind him, who was an old man in a blue flannel shirt, wore a baseball cap over dark curly hair, and a pair of dark sunglasses. Shaun gave the poor man his worst look, sending the man a half step back. In actuality, Shaun was too wound up for his own good and had almost pulled out his gun on the poor man.

"Excuse me, sir, but the hardware store is just around the corner." The man said in rustic voice. The stranger pointed with his left hand to the corner he was talking about. "I work there on the weekends."

"Oh," Shaun said, surprised that a random person on the street would help him. "Thanks, mate."

The man responded to Shaun, but the Brit had already turned around and headed to the store's entrance before the man noticed he was gone. Shaun entered the hardware store, only to find that it looked much larger in the inside than it had from the outside. He scratched his head in bewilderment and he scoped out the store. There were too many gadgets and whatnots that Shaun couldn't name, and it was then that the Brit knew he was out of his area of expertise.

"This is going to be like finding a needle in a bloody haystack." Shaun muttered as he fixed his glasses.

With that in mind, Shaun trudged forward, looking for the piece of machinery that Rebecca had requested. He skimmed through the shelves of small gadgets, just barely glancing at the labels, looking for the same words on the paper, and in the same order. It was practically a maze in the hardware store, and Shaun soon found himself making a loop between shelves he had already looked at.

Finally, Shaun decided to suck up his pride and ask a wandering store clerk for help.

"Excuse me, but I'm trying to find an, uh . . . Electro Voltage Stabilizing Capacitor for my, er, girlfriend." Shaun called out to a younger looking man who was sorting out a new shipment of who knows what. The store clerk looked up and gave Shaun a weird look. "This is her sort of area of expertise; I have no idea what I'm looking for."

The store clerk came over towards Shaun, his face still had a worried expression. Then, the store clerk looked up and down Shaun, as if he was sizing him up. Finally, the store clerk spoke.

"That's a very high tech piece of equipment; I can't just give models like that out willy nilly. Do you have a proper ID or something?"

"Yes. I do." Shaun stated before even thinking about it. It took a second for it to hit him fully, and even after that, Shaun couldn't help but face palm. _"God, I really hope Lucy gave me the right ID. If not, I'll be in trouble."_

The store clerk gave one last good look at Shaun before complying and then leading him to the back of the store. He pulled out a set of keys and then unlocked the back door, which sent Shaun's paranoia whirling. This young man could be a Templar in disguise, leading him into a closed off space to interrogate him, or worse. Scenarios kept going through his thoughts, most of them he had read in old textbooks and on the internet.

Once again, Shaun felt his right hand twitch towards the area where he was hiding his sidearm. Thankfully, though, the store clerk didn't notice the suspicious movement. He just motive for Shaun to stay there and then he disappeared in the back room. A minute passed, and the man came out with a small, but complex looking item and dropped it in Shaun's open palm. Shaun looked over it carefully, as if to inspect it to see if it was the gadget he wanted, but he had no idea what an Electro Voltage Stabilizing Capacitor looked like.

"You can pay for it up front." The store clerk said as he locked the door back up again. Once he finished, the man turned to face the Brit. "Remember, you'll need your ID to take this out of the store."

Shaun nodded and hurried to the cash register. He placed the gadget down on the counter, and the cashier glanced up from his newspaper to look at Shaun and the item he wanted to buy. With a deep sigh, the cashier slammed the newspaper down and swiped the Electro Voltage Stabilizing Capacitor, making the machine beep twice.

"ID?" The man said in a bored tone of voice. Shaun grew slightly nervous as he dug into his back pocket, searching for the ID that Lucy gave him. He dug it out of his pocket and shoved it into the man's face. The cashier looked over the fake ID, looking for any signs standing out, showing that is _was _fake. After a few seconds, the man nodded, clearly fooled by Lucy's handiwork. "Okay, you're good to go."

The Brit didn't even nod as he picked up Rebecca's gadget and exited the hardware store. He figured that that would have been the hardest part of his job tonight. And now that it was done and over with, Shaun could take his time getting the small supplies at a small pharmacy just a couple blocks away. He walked casually down the streets, taking his time.

About halfway to the Chapel, Shaun turned into a Dwayne Reade that had looked promising. He entered the pharmacy, the automatic doors closing behind him, and was met with a blast of heated air. The heat of the store warmed him up after walking in the bitter cold of early spring. There weren't that many people walking around and that helped Shaun relax slightly. At least there were less people around to make him paranoid.

Shaun pulled out his list and then started looking for certain items. It didn't take long for Shaun to find the objects he needed. He grabbed what he needed and then made his way to the check-out station. He put his items down on the small counter, and the young store clerk quickly swiped the items before putting them in a plastic bag.

"Would you like to sign up for a Dwayne Reade Club Member Card for five percent off of all purchases?" The store clerk asked in an incredibly bored tone. The store clerk looked young, perhaps in his young to mid twenties. He had many piercings in his ears and nose, which only disgusted Shaun slightly. He looked at Shaun as if he had a personal vendetta against him. "It's effective for all Dwayne Reades in Manhattan."

"No, I'll think I'll pass on your mediocre attempt to scam me out of my money." Shaun muttered as he took out his wallet. "Now how much do I have to pay you?"

"That'll be $24.69." The store clerk grumbled and held out his hand for his money. Suddenly, the store clerk blew a bubble with bubble gum that Shaun didn't notice he was chewing. Shaun grumbled and handed the young store clerk the money Shaun owed. The store clerk turned around, rolling his eyes in the process, before sarcastically stating his goodbye. "Thanks for shopping at Dwayne Reades, come back soon."

Shaun rolled his own eyes before grabbing his supplies and heading for the door. However, he was stopped as a large, bum looking man in a bulky jacket raced in and shoved him backwards. Shaun was about to give the bum a piece of his mind when he noticed that the man kept his right hand in his jacket's interior.

That's a bad sign.

The bum noticed Shaun looking at his hand in his jacket and motioned for Shaun to back up and follow him where he could see him. Shaun frowned at him, and slowly followed his silent orders. His own right hand was beginning to twitch for his own gun for protection. Thankfully, the bum didn't notice his movements.

"Get down on the ground. Now." The bum muttered, his voice raspy as if he was a lifetime smoker. Shaun didn't comply at first, and that's when the man pulled out his small revolver. With the gun now in sight, Shaun slowly got down to his knees and then down onto his stomach. "Get your hands out where I can see them."

Shaun slowly did as he was told. As he did, the only thought that came to his mind was why the store clerk hadn't noticed the whole situation. Shaun received an answer when he glanced back up at the cashier to see that he was turned around, and had a pair of ear buds in his ears._ "What a lousy idiot. He's going to get both of us killed."_

Now that the bum was content in Shaun's new position, he turned around to go towards the store clerk. The scene before Shaun unfurled way too fast for him to remember it, despite his talent to take in details at a fast rate for his work. The only thing the Brit could completely comprehend was that the bum was now threatening to kill the store clerk and Shaun, as hostage, if the young boy didn't cooperate.

"Get the fucking money out of that machine before I blow your fucking brains out of that shit head of yours." The bum said in a raspy voice, his words slightly slurring. Great, he was armed _and_ drunk. _"And what a great vocabulary he has too"_, Shaun thought. "Hurry it up, you piece of shit!"

The store clerk, who was visibly panicking, was rushing to follow the bum's orders. He tried to get all of the dollar bills out of the cash register, but his attention was focused on the gun aimed at him. Shaun could hear his panicked breathing, and Shaun silently begged for the man to stop before the bum decided they the two didn't deserve to live.

"And don't even think about doin' any funny business. You're gonna be dead before you can reach the cops." The bum muttered at the store clear before turning to face Shaun. "Same goes for you, you fucker. Move from where you are, and you'll have a bullet right in your fucking skull."

At the bum's harsh words, the store clerk let out a panicked sob. The bum slapped the store clerk with his free hand. The force of his slap knocked the young man to his right, and he let out another sob. Even from this angle, Shaun could see a welt mark forming on the man's pale cheek. It looked like one of his nose rings had taken some of the hit, and a small stream of blood flowed down over his lips.

The gun on Shaun's side felt like it was burning him. It was basically screaming at him to pull it out. Just to disarm the man, not to kill him. And Shaun wanted to do it, but he couldn't with the man facing in the best position so he could look at the Brit. Shaun willed the bum to turn just to the left.

A few seconds passed, which seemed like hours, and the store clerk finished emptying the cash register he was stationed in. The bum then motioned for the clerk to go to the accompanying machine, to which the store clerk quickly complied to. The two moved, albeit slowly and carefully, and Shaun just hoped for an opening.

And then he got one. And then he reached for his gun with as much speed as he could muster. The bum noticed his movement, and he quickly aimed his revolver at Shaun. The bum looked like he had a ferocious fire burning in his eyes, and their eyes locked before Shaun pulled the trigger of his gun.

Two shots went off.

_**End of Part One**_


	20. MIA

** Part 2: Battles of Power**

A few hours passed, and Shaun hadn't returned to the Chapel. At first, the other assassins thought nothing of it. Traffic was a problem in this part of Manhattan, so it was highly likely that Shaun was just running late from his errands. Hell, just a couple days ago it took Lucy about an hour just to get the pizza the assassins decided to treat themselves to.

But as the light faded outside and night came, Lucy grew visibly more worried. It was suddenly becoming apparent that something had gone wrong. After Desmond finished his session in the Animus, Lucy had decided to give their researcher and historian a call on his cell phone. With any luck, she'd reach him and find out what was holding him up for so long.

Lucy sat at her desk, her shoulders hunched, and rubbed her forehead slightly. She held her cell phone to her ear tightly, as if it was her life source. Rebecca and Desmond kept to themselves, not noticing how worried Lucy was that one of her team members was practically MIA at the moment. Well, technically she had two members who were MIA, but she didn't really care for one.

_"Come on, Lucy, you're probably just overreacting. We've been through worse, lots of times."_ Lucy thought to herself, trying to calm down her winding nerves. She brushed a loose strand of blonde hair out of her vision so she could focus on something unimportant on her desk. _"Shaun's just running late. That's it, nothing mo—"_

Suddenly, there was a beep emanating out of her cell phone. It startled her, and she slightly jumped. But Lucy froze when she heard a female voice start to speak.

"The phone you are trying to call is temporarily out of service. Please try again later." The automated voice ordered Lucy followed by a couple beeps.

Lucy let out an aggravated groan and slammed her phone shut. The movement caught the other assassins' attentions, and both of them turned from their small meaningless conversation. They saw Lucy hunched over her desk, her hands grasping at the back of her head in an attempt to calm her down. Rebecca and Desmond shared a quick glance before moving to ask for details from Lucy.

"Hey Luce, what's wrong?" Rebecca asked as she wheeled over to Lucy's desk. She put a hand on the other woman's shoulder and started to rub it to comfort her. Desmond just watched the two and stood a couple feet away. "Still can't get a hold of Shaun?"

Lucy looked up at the other assassins, her face distraught. The sight took both Rebecca and Desmond aback. They had never seen Lucy this upset before over something as little as a missed phone call.

"Something's not right. Shaun's cell phone is off. Shaun's cell phone is never off." Lucy stated in a small voice. Desmond looked up at Rebecca as if to confirm this, and the computer techie nodded her head in agreement. "And he never misses a phone call. Never. He tries to make it a point to never be unreachable. The Templars must have snagged him."

With that, Rebecca let out a sigh before nodding her head. "You're right. Shaun's always badgering me for ignoring some of his E-mails and phone calls. He'd never do this unless something went wrong. He's not that much of a hypocrite."

"So what could have happened to him?" Desmond asked, clearly not as worried as the two woman. "He probably just accidently turned off his cell phone. That happens to me all the time."

Rebecca looked up at Desmond. "Yeah, it happens to _you_, not Shaun. That's probably one of the reasons why he's always flustered up about you. Des, have you ever paid attention to why Shaun yells at you?"

"Um, no. Not really." Desmond admitted, his shoulders slightly hunching either due to embarrassment or from under Lucy's newly endowed glare. "After all this time, I kind of just learned how to tune Shaun out. Sorry."

There was a small pause as the two women stared at Desmond. Their expressions were a mix between incredulity, irritation, and anxiousness. Desmond shifted his weight onto his other foot, showing how uncomfortable he was for trying to bring a light on the situation but just making it more uneasy.

"Yeah, I'll just shut up." Desmond muttered as he decided the best way he could help the situation was to stay out of it. He turned around slowly, putting his hands in his jean pockets. "I'll be over there, or something."

Lucy shook her head with Desmond's antics. The blonde looked out the window and saw that the light from the day was already gone, and that the street lights were already flickering on in the city that never sleeps. Lucy let out a worried, heavy sigh, which was soon copied by the computer techie. Nervously, Lucy checked the time on her cell phone once again.

Suddenly, Lucy slammed her palms down on her desk and stood up abruptly. Rebecca looked up at her co-worker, a confused look on her face. Even Desmond turned around from his seat to look at Lucy, his eyebrows furrowed as he questioned what she was doing.

"That's it." Lucy stated, her voice growing solid and somewhat confident once again. She grabbed her coat off of her chair and hastily put it on. The blonde also picked up a small gun and loaded it before putting it in her coat's left pocket. As she made her way over to the Chapel's back door, she turned to look at Desmond and Rebecca. Her face was now covered by a grim frown. "I'm going to look for him. I'll be back before sunrise. If not, then contact the Mentor."

She started to make her way towards the Chapel's back door, but Rebecca quickly grabbed Lucy's left arm and forced the woman to stop. Lucy froze and looked down at the computer techie in the wheel chair, who looked just as serious as she did. They remained frozen for a second before Rebecca frowned disapprovingly at Lucy. Her eyes told her to wait and calm down before making any irrational decisions.

"I know that you want to find him, Lucy. So do I." Rebecca stated, her words keeping Lucy rooted where she stood. She tugged at Lucy's arm again, trying to get her point across. "But if _you're_ thinking what _I'm_ thinking, then they already have him. But we need to be sure if Abstergo does have Shaun."

"Becca, every second we spend here discussing what might or might not have happened, is a second we don't know where Shaun is." Lucy argued as she freed her arm from the woman's grasp. "Now, I'm going to find him."

Before Rebecca could respond, however, the back door opened up. All three of the assassins looked up, expecting to see the Brit walk in casually as if nothing was wrong.

"You're back. We were so worried about you." Lucy sighed, already relieved, as she turned to see who had entered the Chapel.

It was Alex, not Shaun. He looked at Lucy, questioning her sanity, as he stepped into the Chapel and closed the door behind him. He kept his questioning look as he took in the place he had left for days, noticing that someone was missing, but not thinking much of it. Alex remained where he stood, unsure of why Lucy was worried about him.

"Thanks?" Alex asked, somehow not convinced that Lucy was talking about him. He took a couple steps towards the assassins, feeling their eyes boring holes into him as they stared at him. "I missed . . . you too?"

"Have you seen Shaun?" Lucy suddenly asked, ignoring Alex's confused statements.

"Ah," Alex muttered, finally understanding why Lucy was so quick to speak when he first opened the door. Shaun the historian was now missing, and they thought that he was the Brit when he entered. _"How disappointing, I'm not the person they were hoping for."_ Alex let out an aggravated sigh before answering the blonde assassin. "No I haven't seen Shaun. I haven't seen much of anybody these past few days. Should I have?"

Lucy sighed and shook her head. "Shaun's gone missing and he's unreachable. I was just on my way to go look for him when you barged in."

There was a small pause.

"Do you want me to go look for him?" Alex offered after the pause. Lucy looked up, and then started reject his offer. But Alex quickly silenced the female assassin as he raised up his right hand, palm facing her. He gave her a knowing look before justifying why he just offered. "I can cover more distance in ten minutes than you can in a whole day. The fastest way for you to find out where Shaun disappeared to is for me to go out and look for him."

Lucy looked defeated, and then she let out an almost inaudible groan. "Fine, you can go out and look for him, but give us your cell phone number so we can reach you."

Alex frowned before taking his cell phone out of his jacket's pocket. He gave it to Rebecca, who quickly wrote down his number on a piece of paper. The computer techie then gave the virus his phone back. Alex nodded to her in thanks before exiting the Chapel, jumping up to a nearby roof, and disappearing into the night. Lucy and Rebecca watched Alex disappear via jumping, and then turned to look at each other.

"So now what?" Desmond asked as he looked up at the two girls.

Lucy looked over to Desmond, her face still hard yet anxious.

"Now, we wait."

* * *

At least another hour passed, and there was still no sign of Shaun. The three assassins sat around Baby in silence, just waiting for something to happen or for someone to call. Lucy had called Alex about twenty minutes ago to ask for any progress, but he told the woman in an extremely irritated tone that he'd call when he found something. The sound of fierce winds and concrete buckling underneath Alex was enough to tell Lucy to not call again unless it was important.

So now the assassins played the waiting game.

Lucy tapped her fingernails in sequence against the edge of her desk. She had her head in the other head and her eyes were barely staying open. Rebecca was playing around with her cast, feeling the folds of the hard material. After a while Rebecca grabbed a black Sharpie marker and then started drawing strange figures on the white cast. Desmond just watched the computer techie draw, and was slightly amazed as she sketched a large dragon breathing intricate fire around her knee.

Suddenly, Lucy's cell phone began to ring. The three assassins looked at each other, surprised, before Lucy sprang up and grabbed her cell phone. She flipped it open and held it against her ear, her arm trembling slightly.

"Hello?" Lucy asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"Hello, Luv. Are you there?" Shaun's voice asked. He sounded tired, and extremely stressed out for some reason. But what sounded the most off was that Shaun sounded almost fake-like, putting on a fake persona. Shaun paused for a second, taking in a sharp breath. "Is that you, Darling?"

"Yes, Shaun, it's me." Lucy stated, one of her eyebrows rising. Why was Shaun using endearing terms on her? "Shaun, what's wrong? Where the hell are you?"

"Tell me dear, is Tracy there in the room?" Shaun asked, his voice still sounding fake. At that question, Shaun had almost completely lost Lucy. But she knew better, and the assassin knew that the Brit was trying to relay her a message without giving it away. That's when she realized that he was being watched; their conversation was not secure. "Luv, make sure that Tracy _isn't in the same room for this_. I don't want her to _hear this_."

Finally, Lucy understood what Shaun was trying to tell her. She turned to Rebecca, and the other woman perked up considerably. "Becca, make sure that this call isn't being traced."

Rebecca nodded and wheeled over to her computer. After typing on her computer feverishly for a couple long moments, Rebecca nodded and gave Lucy a big thumbs up. Lucy nodded and then returned to her cell phone where Shaun was most likely impatiently waiting for her.

"Okay Shaun, the line is secure. Now tell me what the hell happened to you." Lucy ordered.

"Well my Luv, I ran into some trouble why running the errands." Shaun started, his voice still fake. "While at the store, there was a mugging, and I kind of . . . shot the guy when he threatened to kill the store clerk."

"You did what?!" Lucy exclaimed, startling Desmond and Rebecca.

"Now calm down. I'm at the South Western Police station right now. They believe me when I said that it was self defense." Shaun said slowly.

As soon as Shaun told Lucy where he was, Lucy motioned for Rebecca to search for it, as the computer techie was also listening to the call on her headphones. Rebecca typed her computer, searching for the address, and was soon met with success. She gave Lucy a thumbs up to tell her she had the place.

However, before Lucy could tell Shaun they knew where he was being held, he let out a sigh, and that's when Lucy knew that was more to it.

"They told me that they just wanted to interview me for details, but I've been listening to them talking behind my back." Shaun muttered now, trying to keep his voice low enough so no one except for Lucy could hear. "It sounds like they're trying to pull the wool over my eyes. They say they're just going to get my report as a witness for the shooting, but I can tell that they're lying."

Lucy couldn't do anything but wait for Shaun to tell her what was wrong. Something deeper than a shooting was going on and the assassins were the ones out of the loop this time. And that was something that the assassins couldn't afford at the moment.

"According to their whisperings, luv, I'm on the wanted list." Shaun's voice sounded convinced and yet shaky at the same time. His words were just above a whisper, but Lucy heard them.

"Templars?" Lucy asked, her voice softening just a tad to match his volume.

"That sounds about right. Just a little mistake." Shaun added the last part to fool whoever was listening on his end. "Hopefully this will all blow over in the end. Well, anyways, they're going to hold me over night until my lawyer gets here to sort things out. So honey, do me a favor and _call my lawyer_."

Lucy heard Shaun say _call my lawyer_, but she knew that Shaun meant_ bust me out._

"Don't worry Shaun, we'll help you out." Lucy tried to assure the Brit. She bit her lip as she tried to think of a quick plan. "We'll come up with something."

"I've got to go now, luv. We'll get through this mess, I know it. Goodbye." Shaun stated loudly before disconnecting their call.

Lucy took her cell phone off of her ears and looked at it, still open and giving off a faint static. She continued to look at it until the phone started beeping in annoyance, telling the assassin to close it. Lucy ignored the sound, looking straight at Desmond and Rebecca instead. Rebecca had filled Desmond in, and both looked extremely worried. The two looked at Lucy, expecting her to come up with a plan.

So Lucy came up with a plan of action.

Lucy dialed in a number in her phone and waited for someone to pick up. Finally he did, and he did not sound happy about it.

"I told you, I'll call you when I find something." Alex's aggravated voice sent shivers down Lucy's spine. She heard the man slow down in his search and possibly stop to give her a piece of his mind. "If you're going to call me every half a fucking hour, then I'm not going to find anything."

"Come back." Lucy ordered Alex, trying her best to ignore how brutal Alex had just sounded to her. She heard Alex stop moving, most likely curious to why she wanted him to stop looking for the Brit. "Shaun called; he's being held in a police station. Something fishy is going on and we need to get him out before the Templars get their hands on him."

"Sounds like you've got a plan. And you want me to be a part of it." Alex concluded, his gravel-like voice sounding not quite sure whether that was a good thing or not. Alex let out a sigh, "I'm on my way back."

"Good. And before you hang up, Alex? Tell me; are you good at covert operations?" Lucy asked, sounding somewhat relieved for some unknown reason.

"You have no idea." Alex said, his dangerous looking smirk audible in his voice, before hanging up on the assassin.


	21. More than Meets the Eye

Alex and Desmond sat in a car that the latter had broken into; Desmond at the wheel and Alex in the passenger seat. They sat in silence, as if not wanting to break an invisibility shield around the stolen car. They were parked a couple streets over from the police station, underneath a broken street light on a not so busy street. The only signs of live on the dead street was the accumulated trash over a long, hard day.

Desmond was dressed in mostly black. He had ditched his white hoodie for a black sweater that Rebecca had given him. A black knitted winter hat covered up most of his head, but also gave him the stereotypical look of a mugger. His hidden blade was hidden underneath the black hoodie, and he kept unsheathing and sheathing it as his nerves worsened. Alex gave him an irritated glare after a couple minutes of this, his blue eyes boring holes into the assassin, and Desmond stopped it at once.

Alex was probably just as anxious as Desmond, but the assassin didn't see the virus itching to turn his hands into claws, did he?

Alex wasn't much different in his appearance. He was still in his iconic jacket, still wearing a tan hoodie under the jacket, and still wearing jeans and dress shoes. When questioned by the assassins if he was going to change into something less noticeable for their covert operations, Alex just gave them a dead look that silenced the rest of their questions. After that, he said that he'd change into something different when he and Desmond got there.

Both men had an earpiece placed in their right ear, where Rebecca would later give them information if they needed it. Rebecca, due to her leg injury, was to stay behind the scenes for this operation, and she was only slightly disappointed. Still, she seemed happy just to help them where she was.

And now, the two men were just waiting for Lucy's plan to fall into place.

So they waited.

Half an hour passed of silent waiting, and then Alex let out a growl and smacked the car's glove compartment harshly, leaving an imprint of his fingers. He was growing impatient and claustrophobic. His body was anxious to get back into action after so many weeks just waiting around the assassins with little exercise. This rescue mission had been enough to set him back on edge, and just as impatient as ever for the slow moving assassins.

Not only that, but Alex wasn't one for cars, as he could usually out run them with ease. Even sitting in one made the virus stir anxiously. The time that passed with him and Desmond sitting in the car had been enough to boil up his biomass due to the confined space, and Alex just wanted to get out as soon as possible. And that meant most likely destroying the car in the process. But since he couldn't, due to the fact that it would blow their cover, it was frustrating him like a caged feral animal.

"How much longer to we have to spend waiting in this damn car?" Alex growled out the question in a dangerously low voice.

"Until Lucy gives us the signal." Desmond sighed as he rubbed his forehead slowly. He sounded tired, and he was resting his arms on the steering wheel. Desmond turned to look at Alex, who was beginning to fidget in his seat uncomfortably. "Look, I don't like waiting here forever either, okay?"

Alex let out a groan before grinding his teeth in frustration. When Lucy had asked him if he was good at covert operations, he had something completely different in mind. That being said, he hadn't expected waiting in a car for what seemed like hours to be a part of the plan. Alex knew that he was exaggerating a little bit, but he couldn't help but think that this was worse than a being in a confined space with a canister of Bloodtox.

"This is taking too damn long." Alex muttered again.

"Hey, this is was assassins do." Desmond pointed out. "It's not always running around, stabbing people with blades or throwing knives. Sometimes, we need to do some slow reconnaissance stuff before getting to the stabbing of people. Lucy is probably working as fast as she can."

"Well she needs to hurry the hell up!" Alex practically snapped at Desmond, his voice turning more rigid than it already was at the end as he clenched his teeth in frustration. He glowered out the car's window, his blue eyes practically giving off their own light, creating a deer in the headlights phenomena. He felt Desmond cautiously watch him, but Alex ignored the assassin. "Before _I_ do something she'll regret."

"Just . . . occupy your mind with something until we get the signal, okay?" Desmond said, trying to help the virus. But his words fell short and just left the two men uncomfortable, just waiting for something to happen. Desmond chewed his bottom lip for a couple seconds before adding, "It'll probably be another ten or so minutes, at least."

Alex let out a small, almost inaudible groan.

After Alex's outbreak, it seemed to quiet down. Alex had gotten some of his anxiousness off his chest through words, and now he'll be able to focus on the task on hand easier. Still, the virus knew that if he spent any more time in the car, something would happen that he'd later regret. Alex started to silently beg for something to happen to occupy his time.

Something actually did happen, and it caught Alex's eye. Someone was walking down the unlit street towards their direction, and Alex slightly turned his head to get a better look. Desmond noticed the movement and turned around to find what Alex was looking at. For Desmond, who didn't have his Eagle Vision activated, it just looked like a random person walking down the street.

But for Alex, it was so much more. For one thing, Alex could tell that it was a man. And this man was walking with the kind of authority that very few walked with. The swinging of the hips, the small gleam on his chest, and the shape of a gun holster on his waist were just the few tell tale signs that told Alex who he was. This was a police officer, on his way home after a long day at the office eating donuts and filing paperwork.

"Change of plans, I'm going after that man." Alex said as he prepared to get out of the small car.

"Wait, hold on a second. I want a good look at him before you do anything." Desmond demanded, putting a hand on Alex's nearest shoulder.

Alex sighed but complied, sinking back in his seat, waiting. Once Desmond was sure that the virus next to him wasn't going to barge out of the car and attack the potential innocent, he allowed his Eagle Vision to come to him. It was a sudden rush of energy as a new sense came forward, just like when he was in the Animus when he was Altaїr or Ezio.

A whole new world opened up to him, a cloudy world of grey and monotone colors. Desmond looked over at Alex, who was thankfully the color of an ally, and he heard an almost silent gasp of shock escape from the man. Desmond ignored him and turned his attention to the man who was now walking past their parked car. Desmond was met with a vibrant red surrounding the man's silhouette, the color of a hostile, and could clearly see the man's police uniform. With this information, Desmond let his Eagle Vision fade away.

"Alright then, he's not an innocent." Desmond stated, giving Alex the approval to do whatever he wanted to him.

"Wait a second, Desmond." Alex said, his tone of voice just a hair's width under demanding. Alex was making it quite clear that he wasn't going anywhere without some answers. He looked straight at Desmond, his blue eyes looking almost mad at the assassin. "Did your eyes just glow without you going insane and attacking me?"

"Yeah. I can do it willingly too, you know." Desmond stated matter of factly, much to Alex's surprise. "I still gained it from the Bleeding Effect, but my ancestors also had it naturally. Well, as natural as Eagle Vision could ever get, that is. It's just genetics, Alex."

"Eagle Vision, what the hell does it do?" Alex asked, his voice low and quiet so it wouldn't attract the passing cop's attention.

"It basically allows me to see if someone is an ally, an innocent, or a hostile. It also lets me see _someone's blood on my cell walls_, but that's not important right now." Desmond stated, sounding like he didn't want to delve that much into Eagle Vision. Desmond motioned to the cop who was now more than a half block away, finally getting Alex back on track. "Now, you said you had a change of plans?"

Alex nodded, deciding to put their conversation aside for now. He opened the car's door and slammed it behind him as he got out. Desmond also exited the car, but received a grimace from Alex, which confused him slightly.

"Are you sure you want to come for this?" Alex asked, his expression was a mixture of genuine surprise and unease.

With that, Desmond decided that it would be better for him mentally if he got back in the car. Alex waited for the assassin to get back behind the wheel before leaving to catch up with the police officer. It didn't take very long for him to reach the cop, and Alex didn't bother being discreet with his abduction. Alex just grabbed the man by the jugular and quickly carried him to a nearby ally.

"Let go of me!" The cop ordered in a panicked, Brooklyn accent heavy voice. The cop tried to desperately grab his gun while trying to claw at Alex's fingers to stop the virus from choking him. Once he did have his gun, the cop found himself in the middle of a back alleyway, shrouded in darkness with the man chocking him. "Fuck off, you bastard!"

The cop started to shoot at Alex, a couple shots hitting him point blank in the chest, a few others at his sides. But of course, Alex wasn't hurt by the projectiles and just smirked up at the cop in his hands. Alex roughly grabbed the cop's gun out of his hand, receiving a pained cry from the police officer in the process, and tucked it in his back pants pocket for later use.

"What in God's name?" The cop choked out, now a little spooked by the virus.

And before the cop could perform another futile attempt at escape, Alex began to consume him. The virus quickly snapped the man's neck, the body finally falling limp in his grasp. After that, Alex felt his tendrils come out of his sides and began to rip the dead or dying man apart, tearing any piece of flesh he could get his hands on into biomass. The process was quick, like usual, and soon afterwards Alex was the only one in the ally.

But he wasn't Alex anymore. Now he was the cop: Officer Frank Williams. The man had six years until retirement, two sons named Joey and Sebastian, one daughter named Elizabeth, and recently divorced with a woman named Karen. He had problems with his vision and was very nearsighted. He had just had a huge argument with his partner while on the job, so he had left work early to cool off.

With his disguise, Alex returned to the car to get Desmond. He stood by the car and tapped on the driver's window, and watched with slight amusement when Desmond jumped at the sight of the cop. Alex quickly opened the car door, and that's when he was surprised to see the assassin jump at him, hidden blade already extended and at his throat. Desmond somehow managed to knock Alex onto his back, and now he was staring up at the assassin, who looked ready to kill.

"Are you going to do this every time I freak you out?" Alex asked in the officer's voice, but his aggravation was his own. This made Desmond pause, the hidden blade just rising off of Alex's throat about an inch in hesitation. But that was the only movement Desmond made, and Alex started growling at the man. "Desmond, would you mind getting the hell off me before I throw you off?"

Finally, comprehension crossed Desmond's face as if a light bulb went off in his brain. The assassin flicked his wrist, sending the hidden blade back in its case. Desmond didn't get off of Alex, fumbling with his lips as he thought of something to say instead.

"Al-Alex?!" Desmond said, his voice surprisingly quiet even though it spoke volumes.

"Yeah." Alex answered, his voice still growing hostile at the man on top of him. Alex felt his hands curl up into fists. Hard, lethal fists. Now his fingers were itching to turn into claws. "Now get the hell off."

Desmond was quick to react now, scrambling off the virus before he further irritated him. Alex quickly sprung up and dusted himself off before glaring at the assassin, who had backed up against the car's side. It was clear that Desmond was still aghast at discovering that Alex was now the cop, as he had a slack jaw and had his Eagle Vision activated again to check and see if it was really Alex. The cop was now a bright blue.

"Okay, now _you've_ got some explaining to do, Alex." Desmond said, keeping a wary eye on the cop disguised Alex.

Alex sighed before starting. "Every person I consume, Desmond, I can become them. Their personalities, their flaws, their memories, even. When I consume, it's not just devouring. It's a process of breaking down each and every cell so I can replicate it later on. And when I do replicate it, I _am_ that person, as you see now. And no one can tell the difference between me and the original." Alex paused in his explanation to demonstrate.

He skin quickly trembled until he was Taggart, then he shifted into the tall, stiff business executive from the night he first ran into Desmond, and then to the woman disguise of the same night. He watched as Desmond cringed at each change, his revulsion growing with each new disguise.

Just when the assassin thought he was beginning to understand Alex, he threw another curveball at him.

"It's what I am Desmond." Alex said, his voice now feminine due to the woman disguise he was wearing. Alex shifted back into the cop disguise before clearing out his throat and continuing. "It's what I do. The virus, it doesn't infect someone. It destroys them on a cellular level and allows me to take their place without any sign of doing so. I'm not just infected by the Blacklight Virus, I _am_ the Blacklight Virus. It's what I was created to do."

Desmond tried to ask something, but Alex stopped him as he raised his right hand, demanding more time to explain.

"You're about to ask about Alex, aren't you?" Alex asked. The look on Desmond's face told him he was right. "He's dead. Alex Mercer was the first one I consumed, but at the time I thought I was the original Alex Mercer. And in a way, I still do. He's the only one I can relate to, the only one I feel completely comfortable as. Maybe it's because he was my first, or maybe it's because I had none of his memories to follow on. I don't know, but I do know that with Alex, I was allowed to become my own person."

Desmond's brain almost stopped working after that. The man that was standing in front of him, the man that had plagued his dreams and nightmares weeks after their first encounter, the man that had helped him and Rebecca when he could have just walked away. The man that he was just beginning to see as a friend, wasn't even a man at all. He was actually an it. An it that killed, consumed, and became people.

Suddenly, Dream Monster Alex and the Alex standing right in front of him were indistinguishable yet again.

"So if you aren't—"

"I'm still the same person from ten minutes ago, Desmond. Nothing has changed other than the fact that you know more about what I am." Alex said, promptly cutting the assassin's train of thought. "I'm still the same Alex you and the rest of the assassins know. I still care for my sister, Dana . . . and I still like being referred to as a he rather than an it."

Alex's last sentence was more of a request than anything. That's when Desmond realized that Alex wasn't trying to freak him out, even though he succeeded in that. Alex was just answering what Desmond asked. He wasn't ashamed of who he was. Why should he?

Desmond let out a small sigh and straightened himself out.

"Okay then." Desmond muttered, still slightly wary of Alex. "Now what was this plan of yours?"

Cop Alex looked relieved that Desmond decided to move ahead rather than stay on subject. He came forward towards the car, and before the assassin could realize what he was planning to do, Alex smashed the driver's side window. Desmond naturally jumped back, shielding his face in case any of the glass came towards his face. Thankfully, since it was tapered glass, it just fell.

"What the hell, Alex?!" Desmond exclaimed, giving Alex a suspicious look with a raise of his eyebrow. The last thing he expected the virus to do was smash their stolen car's window. "What was that for?"

"Evidence." Alex stated before grabbing Desmond by the shoulders.

Desmond quickly tried to shake Alex off of him, having no idea what the other man was planning, but soon found it impossible. Alex's grip was like a vice, and the nails that dug into his sweater told him that if he continued to struggle, he'd do more damage. Before Desmond could ask Alex to promptly let go of him, the virus spun him around and pushed him against the car's hood. Desmond's face thudded against the hood, his face pushed to one side so he could breathe, and he soon noticed that it was difficult for him to speak in this position.

"Evidence for what?" Desmond managed to say, sounding clearly irritated. He tried to scowl up at Alex, but was further restrained by the virus. "You finally going insane?!"

"If I remember clearly, I already told you I'm slightly insane." Alex stated calmly. Desmond heard something twitch and snap, and he could only think of one thing that made that sound: handcuffs. Sure enough, Desmond felt cold, metallic rings around his wrists that tightened up after a few seconds. "We're getting in that Police Station a different way than planned. Now get up, you dirty crook."


End file.
